Page 22 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
Chapter Nine – Michael
The sunlight spilled over the mountain ridge as Michael’s massive bear form cut through the pristine powder, his heavy paws leaving deep impressions in the fresh snow as he ran. Each breath burned in his lungs, the frigid air sharp and clean as he pushed himself harder, trying to outrun the restlessness that had followed him from a night of broken sleep.
Dreams of Sarah had haunted him all night. Her smile. Her scent. The way her eyes had lit up when the town square tree blazed to life.
How he wished when he’d woken, she’d been there beside him.
It’s not going to happen unless you tell her she’s our mate and we belong together,his bear said.
Yeah, all I have to do is figure out how exactly I am going to do that,Michael said.
Just make sure it’s soon,his bear replied.
Michael chuckled at his bear’s eagerness, the sound emerging as a rumbling huff in his current form.We’ll figure it out. But she came to Bear Creek for a reason, and we have to make sure we do not push her too far, too fast.
He didn’t want to risk doing anything that might push Sarah away. The thought of scaring her off made his chest tighten uncomfortably.
She is our mate,his bear said with absolute certainty.We are meant to be together.
I agree,Michael replied.But we need to show her that, not simply tell her.
His bear grunted in reluctant agreement, and Michael pushed himself faster, his powerful muscles working hard as he bounded across the ridge. The burn in his lungs intensified, but he welcomed the sensation. Physical exertion was better than lying awake, turning possibilities over and over in his mind.
He reached a distant ridge and paused, massive paws planted firmly in the snow as he lifted his snout to the air. Something had changed—a subtle shift in pressure, a certain crispness that hadn’t been there minutes before.
Snow. Not just the snow beneath his paws, but the distinctive scent of a storm front approaching. Heavy, dense, electric.
There’s a storm coming.Michael turned, eyes scanning the horizon. The sky to the northwest had darkened, clouds building in great gray towers. He had maybe an hour, perhaps less, before it hit Bear Creek.
He turned immediately, heading back toward the tree farm. The mountains could be unforgiving, and if his instincts were right, this would not be a gentle dusting. He needed to get back, secure anything that might blow away, and check the generators.
As he loped along, the first flakes fell, a few scattered flurries dancing in the morning light, a warning of what was to come. Michael quickened his pace, the familiar landscape of North Peak Pines appearing through the trees ahead.
As he neared the edge of the forest, something shifted in his awareness. A warm tingle spread through his chest, making his heart beat faster. The sensation was so sudden, so intense that he nearly stumbled.
Sarah.
She was here, at the farm. He could sense her presence as clearly as he could see the buildings ahead.
The snow was coming down thicker now, large flakes swirling around him as he approached the edge of the property. Michael shook himself, dislodging the snow from his thick fur before stepping into the shelter of the trees.
The air around him crackled and popped as he shifted, bones realigning, fur receding, his massive frame seamlessly transforming from bear to man. He couldn’t risk Sarah seeing his bear form. Not yet. Not until she understood what it meant. What they were to each other.
The snow was coming down harder now, leaving a thick layer on the trail as he strode toward his mate. It was all he could do not to break into a run, the need to see her, to hold her, almost overwhelming.
But he kept his cool.
By the time he strode up to the tree farm office, the snow was coming down in earnest, thick white curtains obscuring the mountains.
Michael pushed open the door, stomping his boots to dislodge the snow. The familiar scents of pine and wood and coffee greeted him, but they were all secondary toherscent.
Sarah stood inside, clutching a folder and her tablet to her chest. Their eyes met, and she smiled shyly. Then her gaze shifted beyond him, widening as she registered the intensity of the snowfall.
“I brought these proofs for you to look at,” she blurted, holding up the folder. “But I didn’t realize the snow was coming down so fast. I should get back to town.”
She moved toward the door, but Michael’s arm shot out before he could stop himself, blocking her path.
“No,” he said, the word coming out sharper than he intended.
