Page 18 of Protected By The Polar Bear

“I did, too, but then I went there for lunch today and asked when she was moving in with me, and she just flipped.”

“Maybe you moved too fast?”

“We’re already mated!” I protest, and he shakes his head.

“She’s human. That doesn’t mean the same thing to her as it does to you. You have to go at human’s speed of dating and relationships.”

I sigh, and he laughs.

“It feels like I’m losing her,” I admit, and he stops laughing and nods.

“She loves you, Ash. You two just need to get on the same page. Just sit down and lay out all of your cards, open up to her, and tell her what she means to you and how much you want her,” he tells me, and I know he’s probably right.

It’s scary though. I’ve never really opened up to anyone like that, and never when the stakes were so high.

We need to make her ours. We need to try everything, my polar bear tells me, and I nod.

“Alright. I’ll talk to her tonight, and then if she still needs me to, I’ll wait the ninety-seven days. I’ll wait as long as I need to until she’s ready to be mine,” I vow, and Flint grins.

“Atta boy.”

“I can’t wait until you find your mate,” I growl, and his smile turns bitter around the edges.

“Me too,” he says softly, and I feel like a jerk.

“I’m sorry, Flint. I—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“It’s fine, Ash. We’re friends. I want to help you out with your problems. No matter what they are.”

I smile, clapping him on the back.

“Ready to head back to headquarters? I doubt there’s any hikers out now that the sun is going down and the trail is clear,” he says.

“Let’s go.”

I’m heading back to my snowmobile when a gunshot cuts through the silence, and I freeze. I turn, looking at Flint in surprise. He’s already sniffing the air, trying to figure out where the shot came from.

“Hunters shouldn’t be here,” I tell him. “We’re still on the ski resort’s land.”

“I know. I can smell them, though. They’re close,” he says.

He’s digging the snowmobile key out of his pocket as I climb onto my snowmobile, and that’s when another shot rips through the air.

“Ah!” I grunt as I tip sideways, falling off the snowmobile.

“Ash!” Flint shouts, sprinting towards me.

It takes me a second to realize that I’ve been shot. I reach up, cupping my shoulder and wincing as the blood starts to spill over my fingers and down onto the snow beneath me.

“I’m okay!” I shout to Flint. “Call for backup. We need to get those guys before they kill someone.”

He’s frowning, but he nods, skidding to a stop next to me and grabbing his walkie-talkie. He reaches into the bag on my snowmobile for the first aid kit there, and I wince as he wraps a bandage around the wound and applies pressure.

“Base, this is Flint. We need help on the North Trail. Ash has been shot. Over,” Flint says.

He looks grim, and I wonder if the wound is worse than I thought.

“What!?” Davis asks, and I want to roll my eyes as all hell breaks loose over the walkie-talkie.

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