Page 11 of Bear Naked Truth
Autumn stopped in the archway, breath still shallow. “No.”
He dropped the sanding block immediately. “What happened?”
“I talked to it,” she said. “Or it talked to me.”
Dorian stepped forward, slower than usual. He didn’t crowd her, but the room suddenly felt smaller with him in it.
“What did it say?”
She met his eyes. “That I shouldn’t be here. That you bring death.”
His jaw tightened.
“Does that mean anything to you?” she asked.
Silence stretched between them, brittle and heavy.
He nodded. Just once.
“I haven’t told you everything,” he said.
Autumn crossed her arms, grounding herself with motion. “No kidding.”
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “There’s a story. A rumor, mostly. When my great-uncle Alaric lived here, they said he was part of something. A… coven, maybe. Or a circle. I don’t know. It was never clear.”
“What kind of something?”
“Blood magic.” His eyes met hers. “Ritual stuff. Forbidden. Dangerous. The kind that ties souls to places.”
She blinked, heart dropping. “That would explain the residue I’m feeling. The grief. The fear.”
“Alaric was the last one. After he died, the energy spiked. The spirits didn’t just wake up—they started reacting.”
Autumn sat down on the edge of the dusty velvet settee. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” he admitted, crouching down beside her. “Until now. Until you.”
Her eyes searched his face. “Why me?”
Dorian’s voice dropped low. “Because the house reacts to you. Not just the spirit. The house itself. It listens. It shifts. When you’re near, it gets quieter.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It should be,” he said. “It means you’re what it needs.”
Autumn stared at him. “And what if I’m not what it wants?”
Dorian didn’t hesitate. “Then we find out what is. Together.”
That word. Together. It hung in the air between them, potent and heavier than it had any right to be.
His hand brushed against hers on the cushion. Not intentional. Not overt.
But neither of them moved away.
“You’re a lot,” she whispered.
He smiled gently. “So are you.”
