Page 69 of Bear Naked Truth
“She isours,” Hollis corrected. “She carries grief like I did. She speaks to the dead like I did. She loves like I did—quietly. Fearfully. And now?” Hollis’s smile widened. “She breaks like I did.”
Autumn’s body convulsed suddenly, knees hitting the floor. Her hands clawed at her sides, her face contorted in pain.
“Dorian!” her voice—hervoice—ripped through the air, just once.
He dropped beside her instantly, hands on her shoulders.
“Autumn, I’ve got you. Come back.”
“She’s too far,” Hollis taunted, now quieter, from somewherebeneathher voice. “She gave me space, and I filled it. Shewantedto understand.”
Dorian pressed his forehead to hers, gritting his teeth.
“You’re not him. And she’s not yours.”
Her hands trembled, fingertips digging into his arms. Her eyes flickered—dark, then green, then dark again.
“Let. Me.Go.” she rasped.
Hollis didn’t answer.
But the shadows did.
They surged behind her, swallowing the far wall, climbing up the sides of the hearth like smoke made sentient. The sigils on the floor—dimmed after the ritual—flared again, repulsed by the intrusion.
“I won’t be forgotten,” the voice snarled. “I won’t beburied again.”
Autumn cried out, her body arching.
Dorian wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her against his chest. “Then beremembered.But not like this.”
The moonstone pendant glowed.
And suddenly Autumn was back.
Gasping. Sobbing.
“He’s still inside,” she whispered, clutching the pendant. “Watching. Waiting.”
Dorian cupped her face, eyes burning. “We’ll get him out. We’re not done.”
She nodded, broken and breathless, and fell into him.
And the shadows watched from the corners.
Waiting.
36
DORIAN
Autumn shook in his arms like a live wire, her body both here andnot, like the spirit clinging to her was trying to pull her beneath the floorboards. Dorian held on tighter, heart pounding, arms anchoring her against his chest.
“Breathe, Autumn,” he whispered. “You’re still here. You’re stillyou.”
But her breath came in gasps, eyes unfocused. Her hands clutched the moonstone at her throat like it could hold her soul inside her skin.
Behind them, the shadows pressed in from the corners of the parlor—slithering up walls, crawling toward the sigils that still pulsed faintly with dying protection. The house groaned. A mirror across the room shattered entirely, the sound sharp as bone snapping.
