Epilogue #2
He growls again and, before I know it, he’s returned for another kiss.
It’s different than the first one. Instead of frantic and overwhelming, Wolf presses his lips against mine with a gentle agreement—and the sensation that I’ve told him what he wants to hear, and now he’s ready to give me what I need.
My fingers curl into him as I go up, rising onto the toes of my boots, meeting him halfway.
“Mine,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I smile against him. “Yours.”
That seems to settle something in him. The tension in his broad shoulders eases, his grip in my hair loosening just enough for his hand to slide down so that he can curl his claws around my neck, cupping the back of it as he holds me close.
But not trapping me.
Never trapping me.
Not anymore.
I pull away from my tall mate enough to catch as much of his gaze as I can. I tap his chest lightly. “Now focus. The bears.”
His expression immediately darkens. “There are three on their territory,” he says, like it’s a warning. Like he thinks that’s enough to stop me. “They’re big, Red. All male.”
“Big male, huh? I’ve handled worse,” I tease.
Wolf’s hand slips under my cloak, finding my waist. “They will not touch you,” he vows.
“I know.” I glance up at Wolf, giving him a crooked smile. “That’s kind of the point if they have a mate of their own. I don’t think they’ll want to.”
I can’t imagine having three mates, but Wolf assures me that, in Blackmoor, many of the beasts will share—except for him.
He made it clear he won’t, and I believe him.
And, okay, if on the very odd chance that the woman is Goldie, I’ve got to know how it works to have that many mates.
Even if it isn’t Goldie, I’m still curious, though I decide not to mention that when it seems like Wolf is getting ready to give in
I knew he would. Pick my battles, right? I have to do this, and if I really push it, Wolf will let me.
He studies me for a moment, clearly not convinced, but when I take one of his hands and tug on it instead of his tail, he follows me to the door without hesitation.
He always does.
I lace my fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. “Come on, my big, bad wolf. Let’s go meet the neighbors.”
Wolf warned me that the trip from our territory toward the corner of the woods where the bears live is close to half a days’ walk away.
Though I suspected he might’ve been exaggerating—and he knows that I’m no more fond of exercising now than I was when I first walked into the forest four years ago—it’s quite a hike.
The storm doesn’t help, either. I’m grateful for my cloak, for my boots, for my gloves because, otherwise, I would’ve turned around and warmed up in front of the fire.
Only knowing that my chances of getting Wolf to agree for a second time to leading me to the bears’ cabin are as good as sleeping through the night without my mate curling up around me in our nest has me trudging forward.
The snow doesn’t bother Wolf. The pair of linen trousers he wears are the only concession to decency that he’ll give me, though I know he only tugs them on for my sake and not because he cares if he’s naked whether he’s in his fur or his skin.
That very same fur keeps him warm, and he huddles me close, sharing that heat with me as he guides me through the consistent flurries.
Though the flakes aren’t very big, the accumulation gets deeper the farther we walk. It crunches beneath my boots, the only sound that carries as we move through the night. Even the wind seems to go quiet as we cross some invisible line that has me gasping and Wolf’s hackles rising.
“Here,” he says, rumbling softly as he pulls me closer against him. “Bear territory. They’ll know we’re coming.”
From under my hood, I peer through the snow. “Where is their cabin?”
“Not far. Do you still want to go? I can bring Red home. Forget the bears.”
It’s not about the bears. It’s about the golden-haired woman that… I don’t know. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s because I’ve fully become acclimated to life in Blackmoor and I truly believe in magic.
It has to be her.
It has to be.
I find Wolf’s arm, rubbing my thumb over the corded muscle there. “Please, Wolf.”
He jerks his head, the furry tufts on the points of his ears twitching slightly as he listens for something that my human ears will never hear. “Stay close. They will not appreciate our visit.”
I’m not worried. If it turns out that this was a bad idea, I have no idea that Wolf will lift me up and carry me away before the bears can even think to attack.
As though he can tell what I’m thinking, my mate angles his body just enough to keep himself between me and the dark stretch of forest ahead of us. Forever protective, his body is hunched, his breathing slow, his every instinct ready to protect his Red.
Together, we walk until the trees finally begin to thin, giving way to a small clearing—and a two-floor wooden cabin built in the center of it. Warm light spills from the windows, glowing against the snow. They must have their own fire going inside.
I shiver, from the chill in the air and the anticipation coursing through me.
Wolf rumbles another warning. “Stay close.”
I nod, and we approach the porch slowly, the wood creaking faintly beneath our steps as we climb up them, heading for the door. Before Wolf can stop me, I step forward, forming a fist so that I can knock.
I never get the chance. The door is flung open before I can.
The doorway is filled by one of the largest men I’ve ever seen.
Seriously. He’s massive. His body is broad and bulky, his closely-cropped hair a rich shade of brown almost as striking as his bronzed skin.
There’s stubble on the edge of his hard jaw, his gleaming gold eyes glaring at me, and I catch a glimpse of a faded flannel shirt that makes me want to scream ‘lumberjack’ before my brain catches up and it switches it to ‘bear’.
Holy shit. This is a bear in a man’s skin, and he looks like he’s about to explode.
A low, dangerous rumble builds in his chest.
Wolf answers it instantly.
His hand settles possessively on my back, firmly pushing me behind him as he steps forward, snagging the bear’s attention.
“Mine,” he says darkly.
“Wolf,” I murmur under my breath, laying my hand on his arm again. “Let me handle this.”
From the way his body stiffens, I know he’d rather engage in a pissing contest with the bear—and how much do you want to bet this is the one who challenged him last time—but, for me, he falls back.
And I’m glad, too, because the bear in the doorway… he’s not alone—and I don’t just mean he’s one of three.
My breath catches as a smaller, human figure steps into my view, slipping past the big man’s side until she’s framed in the doorway, the warm firelight spilling around her.
Four years. It’s been four years since the last time I came face to face with Aurelia ‘Goldie’ Holloway and, holy shit, she looks exactly the same.
Thick body. Enviable curves. Pretty face. Golden curls.
Goldie.
She looks over at me, her curiosity pouring off of her. It hits me then that, hidden beneath my cloak, she has no idea who I am. So, after squeezing Wolf’s arm, letting him know I’m with him, I reach up and lower my hood.
Our eyes meet, Goldie gasps, and the big bear grabs her, tucking her against his side.
“Char?” she says softly, the sound of shock evident in her tone as she gapes at me with her big baby blues. “Is that really you?”
“Hey, Goldie.” Even as I give her an impish grin, my hand reaches back instinctively, finding Wolf without looking, my fingers curling around his arm again.
I have this sudden need to anchor him, ground him, keeping him from further reacting to the three very large, very territorial bears bristling next to and behind her. “Long time no see.”
Behind me, Wolf’s growl lowers into something quieter, more controlled, but no less of a warning to Goldie’s mates.
The biggest of the three shifts his stance, not backing down, not moving aside, but not advancing, either. There’s no challenge. No posturing. Just two predators sizing the other up because they both have something to fight for.
I find Wolf’s lashing tail, stroking the fur. “Behave,” I murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“Anything for you, mate,” he tells me—and the others.
Goldie makes a soft noise, almost like a disbelieving sound, and I get it.
I do. It took me a minute to get used to Wolf’s definitely more wild appearance, and I’m sure hearing him call me his mate is a bit of a shock to my old friend.
Then again, she’s got three bears who are closing in around her, guarding her back, and while they look like massive men—and are those two twins?
—they’re definitely different from my Wolf.
But, hey, that’s Blackmoor for you.
My grin quirks a little higher as I meet Goldie’s gaze again. “You stayed.”
Do I know what happened? No. Will I? I plan on it.
Knowing that Goldie is here, that she’s only a few hours’ walk away with her mates is a revelation, and I won’t stop until I’ve heard her story.
The way she can’t help but gape at me, her lower lip trembling slightly as her eyes develop a glossy sheen…
yeah. She also needs to know where I disappeared off to four years ago.
For now, though, all she says is, “You, too.”
She’s right. And, just like that, I know.
Goldie might not have left Blackmoor when her trip into the woods was done, but she got her wish.
And so did I.