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She looks much younger while she’s sleeping, and fragile, but much as I love watching over her, I can’t leave her there. Her injuries are still healing, and the couch will leave her sore and stiff, but carrying her to bed feels too intimate. Too much like something I have no right to do.

My bear disagrees and decides for me. I set my book aside and carefully gather her into my arms. She weighs almost nothing, even dead asleep. Her head lolls against my chest, and she makes a soft sound that stops me cold, resting a hand against my chest.

A whimper.

“Shhh,” I murmur without thinking, leaning down to bury my nose in her hair. “You’re safe.”

She settles, fingers curling into my shirt. Trusting me, even in sleep.

I carry her to the bedroom, then lay her gently on the bed. Pull the covers up to her chin.

She immediately curls onto her side, burrowing into the warmth.

My bear likes the sight of her there, cosy and comfortable, in my den.It’s her,he whispers. But I ignore him, unwilling to entertain his nonsense.

She’s human. She can’t be ours.

I turn to leave when her hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist. Her eyes are still closed, but her grip is desperate.

“Don’t,” she mumbles, still mostly asleep.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, trying to extract my wrist. “You’re safe.”

But her grip tightens. She pulls, surprisingly strong for someone so small, and I have to brace myself on the mattress to keep from falling onto her.

“Stay,” she whispers. “Please, just... stay.”

My bear rumbles loudly, and her eyes flutter open, unfocused and glassy with sleep. For a moment, we’re both frozen like that, me, half bent over her, with her fingers wrapped around my wrist and our faces too close.

Her gaze drops to my lips first, then awareness crashes into her expression. Her eyes go wide, and her hold on me loosens.

“I...” She releases me like I’m on fire and scoots back in the bed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were...”

She doesn’t finish, doesn’t need to. She thought I was her sister.

I straighten. She didn’t want me to stay. It was stupid to think she would.

“Get some sleep.”

I’m supposed to mind her. This is temporary. I’m not supposed to get attached just because she looks pretty in my bed and smells like heaven.

“Ben...”

But I’m already at the door, needing distance between us. The ghost of her fingers on my skin burns like a brand.

I liked it way too much.

“What?” My voice comes out rougher than intended, and when Zara takes a moment to answer, I feel like shit.

“Nothing. Just... thank you.”

Godamnit.

I close the door without responding and stand in the hallway, hand still on the knob. Inside, I hear her shifting, settling, and then nothing.

My wrist still tingles where she grabbed me, and as I rub my palm over the spot, my bear rumbles in delight. He might just be right.

And if he is, this is going to be a major problem.