Page 28 of Just Right
A muscle in his jaw flexes. “We offered you sanctuary. We offered you protection. That means keeping you safe. I can’t do that if you leave our territory whenever you want.”
Oh, Rowan. Don’t think I didn’t notice how it was ‘we’, ‘we’, ‘we’, until, suddenly, he slipped up with the ‘I’.
Ican’t do that…
“The one of you come with me. Or, hell, all of you. I’d rather not go by myself, and you’re not wrong. I could get lost out there and never find my way back.”
Finn’s brow furrows. “We’d find you,Honig. If you wanted to return, there isn’t anything that would stop us from bringing home.”
I try not to wince when he says ‘home’ like that, like it’smyhome, too. I know the youngest bear wants it to be, but…
“Thanks, Finn. You’re a sweetheart. And I can’t even leave for another week, but that’s also my point. You guys have been so good to me. I don’t want to walk away yet. I mean it. But if I do leave, never even trying to find Char… I can’t forgive myself.”
“This is my fault.” Colt snorts. “I like soft things, but I never thought you’d be such a soft touch.”
If that’s how he wants to see it. “I’m going,” I say firmly. “I could’ve made a break for it, but I like you all too much that I… I wouldn’t. But if y
“No one said they wouldn’t go with you,” begins Finn.
It’s Rowan that cuts him off. “Finn is right. You need to do this, Goldie? You can do it.”
I swallow my sigh of relief. Of the three bears, it was the hardass I was most worried about. Unlike his brothers, he doesn’t have a reason to want to keep me close—but he also doesn’t have a reason to keep me happy, either. He could put his paw down, telling me that I had to stay, and if he decided to enforce it, he could. He could also throw open the door, boot me out of it, and I could say goodbye to having a warm bed—and voracious lovers—for the rest of my stay.
“Thank you, Row?—”
“And I’ll be going with you.”
I guessthere’s one upside to being the big brother. Though Colt and Finn both try to argue with Rowan, when he puts hispaw down, reminding them that he’s the best tracker, the strongest fighter, that there’s wood to be chopped, and hunters out in the forest to avoid? Yeah… he wins that argument. I can leave the cabin, hoping that I might be able to find someone out there that could possibly remember Char’s stay in the forest, but I won’t be alone. Rowan is coming with me, and when I’m the only one whodoesn’targue against spending time alone with the oldest Brown brother, the twins quickly give up the fight.
Because he absolutely refuses to let me stay out after dark, he decides that we’ll leave right away. After gathering some basic supplies, including a skein of water, a knife for me since his bear’s claws are more than enough a weapon for Rowan, and a coat with a hood to cover me up and keep me warm, we leave together.
Rowan’s biggest concern is the hunters. I guess that makes sense. One of them is responsible for killing his mother and leaving the twins as young orphans. Based on their appearances, I can’t imagine Rowan was that much older than them, though I know better than to ask. In fact, apart from telling me to stay close and that, if he tells me to run, I need to high-tail it away from danger, he doesn’t really say anything at all.
That reminds me that bear hunters aren’t the only threats in Blackmoor. I haven’t seen any other monsters except for my bears, but I’ve learned enough over the last two weeks to admit that they’re definitely out there. I’m just hoping we manage to avoid them. I’d much prefer to find another shifter in the same vein of my bears: friendly and welcoming, but who just so coincidentally ran into Charlotte during her stay four years ago.
Time works weird in Blackmoor. They don’t really understand the concept of ‘years’; at least, my bears don’t. It’s more about the seasons. They pass, and I try to explain that Char wouldn’t have been here four summers ago, but that doesn’tmean much when the Brown brothers have never had a human woman stumble upon their cabin until I did.
Because the forest thinks I’m their mate.
Because the forest wants me to give in to this mystical bond that shouldn’t—butdoes—exist.
Luckily, because he’s accustomed to knowinghistime, Rowan can tell approximately how long we have until it grows dark by the positioning of the sun. Between watching its journey across the sky, lifting his nose to check for unfamiliar scents, then peering down at the earth to check for… I don’t know… tracks or something, he keeps quiet while I do everything I can to keep up.
That’s why, when I’ve grown so used to the quiet pouring off of the closed-off shifter, I jolt when he calls out my name.
I recover quickly, tightening the hold on my coat. No, Rowan, you didn’t spook me… I just needed to adjust my jacket… “Yes?”
“Tell me about your friend.”
“Charlotte?”
He grunts.
Um. Okay. “Well, she’s my age. Thirty-two in human years.” I wait a beat to see if he’ll offer up his own age, but he goes back to silent mode. Right. “She’s taller than me. A little slimmer. Pretty red hair that nearly hit her butt. Oh, and green eyes. People always thought she was Irish because of her red hair and green eyes.”
Is that what he meant? A description?
“What makes her so important that you’d face Blackmoor?” he asks after a moment.
