Chapter 17
HAZEL
I turn around as we reach the door to the Opal Room, my belly pleasantly full from dinner and heart warm with the glow of the evening. Benjamin leans casually against the doorframe, the soft light from the hallway catching the sharp angles of his jaw and mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I hope you had a good evening,” he says, voice low, almost teasing.
“Good? It was… amazing.” I can’t stop the wide grin spreading across my face. The nerves from earlier—the worry about fitting into his family’s holiday—have melted away completely. I hadn’t expected a night like this, filled with laughter, warmth, and… him.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmurs, reaching out to cup the side of my face. His thumb brushes my cheekbone, and I lean into the touch without thinking, letting myself savor the moment.
“I’m glad you invited me,” I whisper back, pressing closer, feeling the heat of him against me. “I wasn’t looking forward to spending Christmas alone, even with my big, beautiful tree.”
“Do you parents live far away?” His fingers dance lightly down the side of my face, and I lean into his touch.
“They passed away almost a year ago—in a car accident. This is my first Christmas without them.” I close my eyes as my throat tightens, fighting the wave of melancholy that hits me at the thought.
Benjamin lifts my chin, and I meet his gaze. “Sometimes fate finds a way to help us heal all things. You won’t be alone this Christmas.”
The grandfather clock chimes eleven deep, resonant tones, marking the late hour. Benjamin glances over his shoulder before returning his gaze to mine, a slow smile curling his lips. I cover my mouth as a yawn slips past, the night catching up with me.
“It’s been a long day. We should get to bed,” he says, hand sliding around my waist to draw me closer. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to my lips, the kind that makes it impossible to think about anything else.
“Yes, you’re probably right,” I murmur, though my mind is still reeling from the warmth of his mouth, the brush of his hand, the scent of pine and leather that clings to him.
Benjamin leans closer, lips grazing my ear. “What’s on your mind?” he rumbles, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. He trails soft kisses along my jaw, each one a delicate spark.
“You,” I whisper, my fingers curling into the front of his flannel, aching for him in a way I hadn’t expected. My pulse races, a low hum of need threading through me.
He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that vibrates against my chest and sends heat pooling between my thighs. I press my forehead to his, savoring the closeness, the electric tension hanging between us.
Benjamin tilts his head, brushing his nose along mine in a soft, intimate nuzzle. “You know,” he murmurs, “I could stand here all night.”
I bite my lip, heart hammering. “I’d let you,” I admit, my voice barely audible.
He smiles, brushing his thumb across my cheek once more before leaning down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s tender, heated, and impossibly sweet all at once. It says everything without words—promise, desire, and something unspoken, hovering.
Finally, he pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips, “Sleep well, Hazel.”
“Goodnight, Benjamin,” I whisper back, the warmth of his hands still lingering on me as he closes the door softly behind him.
I sink into the soft sheets, heart still racing, cheeks flushed with the memory of his lips and the tension that still hums between us. Lying back, I stare at the ceiling, the snow glittering faintly against the windowpane, thinking of how close he’d been—how warm, how alive he made me feel.
Every thought of him makes it impossible to quiet my mind, but exhaustion finally lulls me into a fitful, dream-filled sleep.
A loud thud jolts me awake. I blink into the darkness of the room, lit only by the silver wash of moonlight streaming through the window. Pulling the down comforter up to my chin, I burrow deeper into the silken sheets, trying to let the warmth lull me back to sleep.
The thud comes again.
With a groan, I roll onto my side and tap the screen of my phone. One a.m. glares back at me in harsh white digits. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to drift off, but my mouth feels parched. Pretzel is curled up on the pillow beside me, fast asleep, blissfully oblivious.
The more I try to ignore it, the drier my throat becomes.
“I knew I should’ve drunk more water before bed,” I mutter, slipping out from under the blankets. My bare feet meet the icy wood floor, and I hiss, scrambling for the fuzzy socks in my bag. I’m tugging one on when another thud rattles the silence.
I freeze, glancing at the window.
“What on earth…?”
Pulling on the second sock, I tiptoe closer and peer outside. Nothing but a pristine blanket of snow glitters back at me, soft and untouched across the ground and clinging to the trees. Probably snow sliding off the roof. Or an elk? Do elk even live around here?
Shaking my head, I creep to the door. The third stair groans under my weight, and I stop, holding my breath. When no one stirs, I take the rest of the steps more carefully, padding into the kitchen.
I’m standing at the sink, pouring milk into a glass, when it happens again—another deep, echoing thud.
Heart thumping, I lift the cold milk to my lips, snagging a cookie from the counter for comfort. On tiptoe, I peek out the kitchen window.
My jaw drops.
Out in the snow, two massive white polar bears are locked in a brutal wrestle.
One slams the other against a tree, sending a cloud of snow tumbling down around them.
The larger bear plants its paws against the other’s chest, then lifts its head toward the moon and unleashes a roar so loud it rattles the glass.
Polar bears. Not just one—but two. In the Pacific Northwest.
Last I checked, polar bears weren’t supposed to live here.
Did Benjamin know there were polar bears out in these woods?
I look back out the window, but the bears are gone. Had I imagined it? Maybe I’m still half asleep. I finish off my cookie and down the last of the milk before rinsing the glass and setting it in the sink.
I’m turning toward the stairs when the back door through the mudroom rattles.
I freeze, one hand on the handrail, heart racing in my chest. Could bears open doors?
Before I can decide whether to run upstairs or toward the front of the house, the door bursts open—and I meet the gaze of the larger polar bear.
Except standing less than a dozen paces away, it looks three times the size it had out the window. A scream sticks in my throat as I turn to dash up the stairs.
“Hazel, wait.”
Benjamin’s warm, familiar voice cuts through the air, and I pause, spinning around.
Behind me in the doorway—where moments before a bear had stood—is Benjamin. Except… he’s standing there in nothing. My eyes drop from his face, tracing the sharp lines of his hips to the trail of hair that leads right to his—
I gulp, my cheeks burning as I quickly lift my gaze to his, finding that slightly amused look on his face.
“Bear’s out of the bag now,” Nathan quips over his shoulder, shoving his brother from behind. “Move out of the way—the snow’s starting to come down and I’m freezing my ass off.”
I cover my eyes with both hands as Nathan pushes past Benjamin and takes the stairs behind me two at a time.
“He’s gone now,” Benjamin says, and I peek open an eye to see he’s pulled on a pair of pants—though they leave little to the imagination now that I’ve seen… everything.
“You’re a… you’re a…”
“Bear.” His voice is rough, almost reluctant. “Well—polar bear. This wasn’t exactly how I meant to tell you.” His hand twitches like he wants to reach for me but instead drops to his side, curling into a fist.
“When did you mean to tell me?” My pulse hammers in my ears as the words tumble out. I’d suspected Benjamin and his family weren’t entirely human. But this? Polar bear shifters? I never would’ve guessed.
“I don’t know,” he admits, jaw tight. “There hasn’t exactly been a good time.”
“Then what was your plan?” I hop up onto the counter and cross my arms over my chest, trying to look stern even as heat and nerves twist through me.
“What was the plan? Oh, I just rescued you from a snowstorm and brought you home. By the way, I’m secretly a polar bear.
Or maybe—hey, my entire family of bears wants you to stay for Christmas in a cabin hours from town.
” His teeth clench, that grumpy lumberjack mask sliding back into place over the soft man who made me cocoa with his gran and helped his mom bake cookies just to make me feel welcome.
“You have a point,” I murmur, softening. My hand finds his forearm, his skin radiating heat despite just coming in from wrestling in the snow. “But… it was pretty amazing watching you take down your brother. Do you always fight like that?”
His gaze flicks to mine. “Sometimes. It’s Christmas Eve tradition to celebrate at midnight in our bear forms. My parents don’t fight anymore—not with Dad’s leg—but they’re still out there. For a while yet.”
Realization trickles through me, and my lips curve slowly. “So… we’re alone?”
His brows arch at my tone, but I don’t give him time to answer. Sliding my hands up into his hair, I tug him closer until our mouths are a breath apart.
“Gran’s asleep down here, and Nathan will leave us alone if he knows what’s good for him.”
I hum in excitement, the sound vibrating between us. “I can think of another way to celebrate.”
A low growl rumbles through his chest as my legs wrap around his waist, drawing me against him. My core presses against the thick, hard length straining beneath his jeans—separated only by two maddeningly thin layers of fabric.
“Hazel…” His voice is strained, warning, but his lips brush the shell of my ear, sending shivers skittering down my spine.
“Are you sure?” The words thrum against my skin, deep and possessive.
“Yes,” I whisper, before doubt can creep in.