Page 43 of Stout Bear

“It's not enough,” Laney replied, wiping at the tears that threatened to fall. “One person can't stand against an entire town. Against people like Flint who will always have more power, more influence.”

Max took a step toward her, and when she didn't back away, he took another. “You're wrong,” he said. “One person can make all the difference. You already have.”

Before Laney could respond, Max suddenly dropped to one knee before her. The unexpected gesture stopped her mid-breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked, confusion momentarily replacing her anguish.

“Laney,” Max said, looking up at her with such intensity it made her heart stutter. “I love you more than life itself. You are everything to me. Your brilliance, your determination, your heart. Please be my mate. Let me claim you properly.”

Laney stared at him, speechless. Of all the scenarios she'd imagined for tonight, this had never crossed her mind.

“The changing bite,” Max continued, reaching for her hand. “I want to give you that gift. I want to be connected to you in every way possible.”

At the mention of the changing bite, memories crashed over Laney like a wave. Her father's stern face as a young Laney had begged him to help her shift fully. “You're not a full shifter, Laney. Your mother is human. You should be content with who you are.”

Her siblings had snickered in the background. One had muttered, “You'll never be a real fox.”

The memory stung as fresh as if it had happened yesterday, not decades ago. The longing she'd carried all her life, to be whole, to belong fully to one world instead of partially to two, surged through her with painful clarity.

“Max,” she breathed, barely audible. “You don't understand what you're offering.”

“I do,” he insisted. “I understand exactly what it means. And I want you, Laney. All of you. I want to give you the gift that should have been yours all along.”

Tears streamed down her face now, unchecked. She reached down, grasping his forearms and gently pulling him to his feet. She couldn't bear to see him kneeling before her, offering everything she'd ever wanted when she felt so broken. They stood facing each other, a charged silence filling the space between them. Max waited, patient, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes,” Laney finally said through her tears. “I want to be your mate.”

Relief flooded his features, and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his warmth. She cried harder, but this time from a strange mixture of relief and hope, allowing herself for the first time in years to believe that perhaps she could belong somewhere, with someone.

“I'll protect you,” Max murmured against her hair. “I'll protect this land. I'll make all of it right. I promise.” The fierceness in his voice, the absolute certainty, gave Laney courage.

“There's a cabin,” Max said after a long moment, still holding her close. “In the woods, away from everything. We could go there, just the two of us. Light a fire, cook a simple meal. No one to bother us, no judgments, no Flint. Just us.”

Laney pulled back slightly, looking up at him. The tension in her body had begun to ease, the dark cloud of despair lifting just enough for her to see a way forward. A secluded cabin, far from the town that had rejected her, alone with the man who believed in her when no one else did. It sounded like a dream.

“I love you, Max. I'm sorry I doubted you,” she said, guilt washing over her. “That I tried to run.”

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry,” Max insisted, brushing away a tear with his thumb. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

When they parted, Laney met his gaze, the first flicker of real hope warming her chest. In that moment, surrounded by half-packed boxes and the remnants of her attempt to flee, Laney felt something shift inside her. With Max as her mate, perhaps she could find the strength to keep fighting.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

Laney steppedover the threshold into the small cabin. Max dropped their bags on a worn wooden bench by the door. He moved to check the fireplace, and Laney drifted into the small kitchen, inspecting the supplies. A sturdy table stood in the center. Cabinets displayed mugs, plates, and cooking utensils. A faded rug covered part of the floor, and the scent of cedar lingered from the timber walls.

“Are you hungry?” Max asked, coming up behind her. “I already stocked the fridge.”

Laney nodded, grateful for the distraction of a practical task. “I'm starving, actually.”

Max opened the refrigerator, pulling out ingredients. “How about pasta? Simple but filling.”

“Perfect,” Laney said, already rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll help.”

Max pulled out a cutting board and began chopping onions and garlic while Laney rummaged through cabinets for pots and utensils. They worked side by side, shoulders occasionally bumping in the cramped space. Max browned ground beef ina pan while Laney chopped mushrooms and bell peppers. The sizzle of meat and the aroma of garlic filled the small kitchen.

“Could you hand me the oregano?” Max asked, stirring the meat.

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