Page 17 of Honey for the Bear

The rogue is massive, its fur matted and dark.Its eyes are wild with madness.It’s crouched near the edge of the garden, its focus locked on the house, and a low, guttural growl escapes me as I charge.

The rogue turns at the last second, its teeth bared, and we collide with a force that shakes the ground.Pain explodes through me as its claws rake across my side, but I don’t stop.I can’t stop.

Its scent is overpowering, rank and bitter, and the bear in me roars with fury, driving me forward.My claws sink into its shoulder, and it howls, twisting beneath me as it tries to break free.

But I’m stronger.

I’m faster.

And I’ve got something to fight for.

The rogue lashes out again, its claws catching my chest, and I feel the sharp sting of blood, hot and wet against my fur.But the pain only fuels me as I slam it to the ground, my jaws snapping inches from its throat.

It thrashes beneath me, its strength wild and unpredictable, but I hold on, driving it back, away from the house, away from her.

The fight is brutal, a blur of teeth and claws, and by the time the rogue finally goes limp beneath me, my body is screaming in protest, every muscle burning with exhaustion.

I stagger back, my chest heaving, and shift back into my human form, the pain sharper now, more acute.Blood drips from the gashes on my chest and side, staining the grass beneath me, but I don’t care.

Because when I look up, I see her.

Hannah is standing on the porch, her eyes wide with shock and her hands trembling as she clutches the doorframe.

“Cameron?”she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come.

Her gaze drops to my chest, to the blood, to the torn remnants of my shirt, and then shifts to the rogue’s body lying motionlessly on the ground.

She knows.

She knows what I am.

And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel fear.

I feel shame.

“Hannah,” I say, my voice rough, broken.

She takes a step closer, her eyes searching mine, and I see the questions there, the confusion, the disbelief.

But there’s no fear.

She’s not afraid of me.

I don’t deserve that.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the words choking me, and then I turn and run, the pain in my chest nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

I don’t stop until I’m deep in the woods, the darkness closing in around me, and when I finally collapse to the ground, I let out a roar, the sound raw and broken, filled with everything I can’t say.

Because no matter how much I want her, no matter how much I love her, I know I can never be what she needs.

Chapter 9

Hannah

Thewoodsarealivewith noise—the wind whispering through the trees, the faint hum of insects, the rustle of leaves under my boots.But all I hear is the sound of my heart pounding, steady and relentless, like it’s trying to drown out every thought in my head.

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