Page 42 of Holly's Grizzly

I don’t say anything at all, and neither does Irving.

And maybe that’s more confirmation I’m not so far off the mark. Maybe he knows just as well as I do that this thing between us can’t last.

It’s all a tangle, so I make myself push it aside and savor these last few hours, minutes, seconds I have with him, heart growing heavier and heavier as the day wears on.

Sometime late in the afternoon, Irving and I are tangled up on his couch, dozing in front of the fire. The light outside is already getting low and long, and even more snow has melted throughout the day, though we’ve both stubbornly remained silent about what that means for us.

I rouse from a light sleep and stretch my arms over my head, every single one of my muscles aching in the most delicious way. A small smile turns up the corners of my lips as I survey the wreck we’ve made of the room around us, though it dies immediately when I catch sight of the world beyond the windows.

My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open on a gasp.

There, in the middle of the clearing outside Irving’s cabin, is an enormous wolf.

It’s at least twice the size of a normal wolf—huge and hulking with gray and russet fur, beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

And clutched in its jaws is…

“My pack.”

I whisper the words, and Irving stirs where he’d been dozing on the couch with me. He tightens his grip around my waist and tries to pull me back down beside him, but my attention is still wholly fixed on the wolf as all that fur starts to ripple and distort.

Between one blink and the next, there’s another incredibly hot, incredibly naked man in the middle of the snow-covered forest.

He looks younger than Irving, with a lanky build, rich brown skin, and a head of messy black hair. Scooping up the pack from where he dropped it during his shift, he lopes forward through the melting snow, apparently as unbothered by the cold as Irving.

I lose sight of him as he approaches the back door, but a rap on the wood and a muffled voice from the other side quickly follow.

“Irving, you home?” the shifter calls out. “I found some hiker’s pack washed up on the river a mile or so from here and caught a scent trail back to—oh.”

His words cut off in surprise as I swing open the door. His gaze sweeps up and down my blanket-wrapped body, and he takes a quick inhale before a wolfish grin spreads across his face.

“Hi,” I say brightly. “That’s mine.”

“So it would seem,” he says, and glances into the cabin. “Is the big guy around here some—”

“Vic,” Irving grumbles. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He’s somehow managed to get his boxers back on, and pulls his tee haphazardly over his head as he steps between me and Vic, holding out his discarded pajama bottoms.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’ve got company.”

“I can see that,” Vic says, accepting the pants as his eyes dance with mirth. He hands over the pack, and I keep my gaze tactfully averted as he slips on Irving’s pants and cinches the waist tight to keep them up.

“Thanks for bringing this back to me,” I say, hands immediately searching for the outside pocket where I keep…

My keys.

Right where they’re supposed to be, my ticket down off this mountain once I make it back to where I parked at the trailhead.

Perfect.

Just great.

“Of course,” Vic says with a wide, endearing smile. “I’m just glad that you’re safe. When I found the pack, I was worried something bad might have happened to whoever it belonged to, but…” He glances to Irving, that smile growing even wider. “Looks like you’re just fine.”

I flush, but Irving saves me from having to explain what exactly it is we’ve been doing up here for the past few days.

“She is,” he grunts, something strangely husky in his voice as he rests a hand on my hip.

---