Page 16 of Honey for the Bear

I let out a roar, the sound echoing through the forest, and slam my claws into a tree.The bark splinters beneath the force, and chunks of wood rain down around me.

I shouldn’t have let it happen.

But God, I wanted her.

I wanted her in a way that scared me, in a way that made my bear claw at me, desperate to claim her, to mark her as ours.And for one perfect, terrifying night, I let myself have her.

And now I’m paying the price.

The woods are quieter now, the sounds of the night muted as I slow to a stop near the river.The water rushes over the rocks, cool and steady, and I lower myself to the ground, the bear still clinging to my skin.

The guilt is worse in the silence.It gnaws at me, sharp and unforgiving.No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the image of her lying in bed, her hair spread out across the pillow, her soft, sleepy smile when I kissed her goodbye.

I left her.

I had to.

But even as I tell myself that, I know it’s a lie.I didn’t leave to protect her.I left because I’m a coward.

The bear growls low in my chest, restless and angry, but I ignore it.It doesn’t understand.It doesn’t see the danger the way I do.

Because the truth is, I’m not just risking her heart.I’m risking her life.

Hours later, I’m back at my cabin, pacing the length of the living room like a caged animal.The fire is dying in the hearth, the embers glowing faintly, but I can’t bring myself to care.

My thoughts are a mess, tangled and chaotic, and no matter how hard I try to sort through them, they always lead me back to her.

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t know how to want her without destroying her.

The bear growls again, louder this time, and I slam my fist against the wall.The sharp pain is a welcome distraction.

“You’re losing it,” I mutter under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair.

The sound of a branch snapping outside pulls me up short, my senses going sharp and focused in an instant.The air shifts, carrying with it a scent that makes my blood run cold.

Not hers.

Something else.

Something wrong.

I’m moving before I even realize it, shifting as I bolt out the door.The bear takes over, its instincts sharper, faster, and I let it guide me, my paws pounding against the earth as I follow the scent.

It’s faint but distinct—wild and feral, tinged with blood and rage.

A rogue.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I push myself harder, fear clawing at my chest.If a rogue is this close to Hannah’s farm…

I let out a roar, the sound shaking the trees, and the scent shifts, closer now, more deliberate.It’s circling.Stalking.

No.

The farmhouse comes into view, the faint glow of the porch light cutting through the darkness.My heart pounds, the bear’s growl rumbling deep in my chest as I scan the area, every muscle in my body coiled tightly.

And then I see it.

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