Page 70 of Bear Naked Truth
Dorian pulled her away just enough to cup her face.
“Look at me,” he said, voice deep, steady. “Autumn. Come back to me, darlin’.”
Her lips parted. A flicker of clarity passed through her eyes.
Then camehimagain.
The shift was so subtle it was horrifying. Her spine straightened too perfectly. Her hands dropped to her sides like puppet strings. Her gaze went cold. Vacant.
“Still you?” Dorian asked, though he already knew the answer.
She blinked once.
“No,” Hollis said through her voice, soft and final. “Not anymore.”
Something in Doriansnapped.
He shoved back the swell of fury. Let his bear rise only far enough to lend strength. His hands trembled with it, but hewould notshift this time.
No.
This fight wasn’t about claws or teeth.
It was about the heart.
“You don’t get to use her like this,” he growled. “Not again.”
Hollis—inside her—tilted her head. “She welcomed me. She wanted to understand.”
“She offered you grace. And you’ve twisted it.”
“Iwas love once,” Hollis hissed, stepping closer, shadows trailing behind her. “I bled for love. Idiedfor it.”
“Iknow,” Dorian said, his voice cracking. “And that should’ve been enough.”
He stepped into the circle again, ward lines flickering beneath his boots, threatening to break under his presence. But he didn’t care. If he had to burn for this, he would.
“You think you’re the only one who’s lost someone?” he whispered fiercely. “You think you’re the only one who’s scared of being forgotten?”
Her hands twitched. Her eyes flickered.
“Youareforgotten,” he said, raw now. “Not because people stopped caring. But because you refused tolet go.Because you turned your pain into something poisonous.”
The shadows reared behind her.
“Because you buried the love and kept the grief.”
A sob cracked through Autumn’s lips, but it wasn’t hers. Not fully.
Dorian reached forward, hands cupping her face again. “But love doesn’t rot, Hollis.You did.”
A scream tore from her mouth, Hollis’s voice twisted and howling, and the circle ignited. Flame—not fire, but light—surged up from the sigils. The shadows shrieked. Windows burst outward in a spray of glass and wind.
Autumn dropped to her knees, arms wrapped around herself, teeth gritted in agony.
“Get out of her!” Dorian shouted, dropping to his knees beside her.
He gripped her hands. Tight. Anchored her with the weight of every moment they’d shared—every laugh, every touch, every whispered promise.
