Page 65 of Sweet Heart for the Bear

Yep. They’re definitely like sisters already.

“But you won’t hurt her, right? I mean she’s had bad boyfriends,” MJ says, and clearly she is ready to stick up for Carina.

I want to maim all her exes too, so I understand, and I admire that she wants to protect my Sweetheart from me.

Even if it isn’t necessary.

“I will never hurt her. She is my fated mate. Bear would cut me up if I even thought about it, which I won’t. I can’t. All I want is to make her happy. I love her,” I say, and hold my hands up helplessly.

Both women nod their heads, accepting my claim just like that. And it calms something inside of me.

“So, you see, darlings,” Uzzi continues, his voice smooth as silk as he explains fated mates, “this is a magnificent gift from the multiverse.”

I barely hear him.

Somewhere on the periphery of my consciousness, his words blend into the background of my worry.

“How you holding up?”

Doug’s voice snaps me out of my spiral.

I glance up to see him standing there, holding a short glass of something brown.

I take it from him without a word and pour it down the hatch.

Immediately, I regret it.

The burn hits the back of my throat like a goddamn inferno.

“What the fuck is that?” I cough, trying not to let my eyes water.

Doug grins, the smug bastard. “Oh, it’s a little something called Habanero Mango Bite. A Pack mate of mine owns a distillery down in Maccon City.”

“Shit, it’s hot as fuck.”

Doug laughs, clapping me on the back. “Yeah, this batch is for Shifters with enhanced taste buds. That’ll wake you up in the morning, am I right?”

I glare at him, my throat still on fire.

Asshole.

Naturally, I take the second shot he hands me. But I have yet to drink it when I hear movement behind me.

“Can I have some of that?” a soft voice asks, and I turn to seeherstanding there.

Mate.

Chapter21

Carina

The first thing I notice when I step into the living room is my sisters.

Dina and MJ are both standing like watchdogs, their eyes locked on me the second I appear.

I know I look like absolute hell—still wrapped in Horace’s oversized coat, wearing borrowed boxers and a T-shirt that isn’t mine.

My hair is a tangled mess, my skin is still warm from sleep, and I haven’t even had the chance to shower yet.

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