Page 20 of Asking Fur Trouble

Charov laughed, the sound deep and resonant. “And I never imagined my mate would be an Earthling who makes my heart race faster than any freefall.”

Bess felt warmth bloom across her cheeks. “Being in your arms, hurtling toward the ground... I should have been terrified, but I had never felt safer.”

“I would never let anything happen to you.” His voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down her spine.

She nodded knowingly. “And I’m beginning to understand now what you’re facing,” she said, reaching for a purple fruit that looked like a cross between a peach and a star. “It’s not just your father’s illness. It’s knowing your whole life is about to change.” The fruit burst with flavor in her mouth—sweet with a hint of spice.

Charov nodded, his powerful shoulders tensing. “Freedom has always been everything to me. The ability to chase the next thrill and the next experience.” He poured more wine into her glass. “But duty comes for us all eventually.”

“It doesn’t seem fair that you have so little choice in the matter.”

“Life rarely is.” His hand found hers across the blanket. “But finding you in the middle of all this chaos... maybe the universe knows what it’s doing after all.”

Bess felt that magnetic pull again, stronger than gravity. The wind picked up, playing with the hair escaping her ponytail, and something primal flashed in Charov’s eyes as he watched.

“You’re completely different today,” he observed, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. “More... you.”

“I think I am more me,” she laughed. “Turns out the real me was buried under a mountain of paper and a boss who treated me like garbage.”

Charov leaned forward, his presence commanding the space between them. “I want to know every part of the real Bess.” His voice was a growl that sent heat coursing through her veins. “The parts you’ve shown the world, and the parts you’ve kept hidden.”

The sheer intensity in his gaze made her feel simultaneously exposed and protected. This wasn’t the rigid, polite prince she had met yesterday. This was a man—a shifter—who saw her. Really saw her.

The tranquility of their picnic shattered like glass when high-pitched screams cut through the air. Bess jerked her head toward the sound, her heart skipping several beats.

“Stay here,” Charov commanded, already on his feet. His relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced with something primal and fierce. Before Bess could respond, he was sprinting toward the edge of the clearing, his powerful body moving with surprising speed.

“Like hell, I will,” Bess muttered under her breath once he was out of earshot.

Kicking off her shoes, she followed at a cautious distance, her stockinged feet silent on the soft earth. The screams grew louder, punctuated by snarls that raised the hair on the back of her neck. She crept to the edge of a small ravine and peered down.

Three children—two boys and a girl who couldn’t be more than eight years old—were backed against a rocky outcropping. Facing them were five beasts that resembled wolves, but with elongated snouts and mottled purple-gray fur that rippled over muscular frames. Their eyes glowed an eerie amber in the sunlight.

“Don’t move,” Charov’s voice reached Bess, though she could no longer see him.

What happened next knocked the air from her lungs.

Where Charov had stood only seconds before, a massive bear now reared on its hind legs. It was at least ten feet tall with dense dark brown fur and shoulders broader than any Earth bear she’d ever seen in documentaries. The beast let out a roar that vibrated through Bess’s bones, and she knew—she just knew—it was Charov.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, gripping a nearby tree for support.

The wolf creatures turned as one, hackles rising as they faced this new threat. The largest of the pack lunged forward, jaws snapping. Charov swatted it aside with one enormous paw, sending it flying several yards away.

Bess tore her eyes away from the magnificent creature and focused on the children. Charov was creating a diversion, but the kids remained frozen in terror. Another wolf creature circled wide, trying to flank Charov, bringing it closer to the children.

Without thinking, Bess slid down the embankment. “Hey! Kids!” She waved frantically. “Come to me, quick!”

The little girl spotted her first, tugging at her companions’ sleeves. Bess crouched low, extending her arms. “That’s it. Run to me. Now!”

The children bolted toward her just as Charov charged into the remaining beasts, his bear form moving with shocking agility for its size. The sounds of battle—snarls, roars, the impact of massive bodies—created a terrifying soundtrack as Bess gathered the children against her.

“Up the hill, fast as you can,” she urged, positioning herself between them and the fight. One of the boys stumbled, and Bess scooped him up without breaking stride. His tiny arms wrapped around her neck as they scrambled upward.

Behind them, a wolf creature yelped in pain. Bess couldn’t help glancing back. Charov had one beast pinned beneath his massive paw while fighting off two others. His movements were ruthless and efficient, his bear eyes flashing with something both wild and intelligent.

Something primal stirred in Bess’s core at the sight of him defending them so fiercely—something that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with raw attraction.

“He’s protecting us,” the little girl said in awe as they reached the picnic spot.

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