Chapter 4-Rosalind
Working out at the training rings is something I do every day.
No, it doesn’t make me thin. Anyone who still believes that hasn’t met my Bear.
But it keeps me fast.
Sharp.
Grounded in my body instead of spiraling in my head.
And right now, I desperately need something solid to focus on.
Because spending time with Hope and Miles this week—and mostly Honor—has left me unsettled.
Hope is amazing. Truly.
Sweet and open in a way that makes you trust her without even trying.
I keep wondering why we weren’t friends in school.
Sure, I’m a year older, and I was more Library Skills than Shop. But still.
She’s the kind of person who would’ve sat next to you in class and shared her snacks without making a big deal out of it.
Plus, she’s rocking this whole Shifter gig. She’s taken to her Bear faster than most newly awakened Shifters.
I’ve gone on two runs with her in our fur, and she’s a natural—steady stride, good instincts, no panic when the world shifts shape around her.
I like her. A lot.
Which makes this harder.
I keep reminding myself of the facts. Repeating them like a mantra.
I’m here on assignment.
I’m protecting a human.
I’m maintaining the supernatural secret and the Clan.
Right?
Crap.
This is why I suck at relationships.
Even the platonic kind.
My Bear doesn’t see Honor as just Hope’s brother.
Or as my current responsibility.
She sees him as something else—something dangerous and tempting and entirely off-limits.
And worse? I’m starting to think he sees me as more than his sister’s friend.
The looks linger a beat too long.
The way his hand brushes mine when he passes something, like he’s not quite ready to let go.
The way his pine fresh scent curls around me—warm and worn-in and unmistakably male.
That worries me.
I’m an adult. I’m not inexperienced.
But I don’t do casual sex.
Never have.
And if that’s where this slow, magnetic pull is heading, I’m going to have to stop it.
Because if I sleep with Honor—if I take him deep into my body, get his scent on me—I know my Bear won’t let him go.
Mate, my beast whines.
I’m mid-combination—pivot, strike, roll—when I sense someone step into the ring with me.
I recognize his scent. It’s Miles.
“Mind if I join?” he asks mildly.
I nod and reset my stance.
“Be my guest.”
We circle each other, controlled, familiar.
He’s solid—Grizzly strength wrapped in discipline.
He throws a feint, I counter, muscle memory taking over.
“You’ve been pushing harder than usual,” he says, blocking my strike with ease.
“Have I?” I deflect, twisting free.
“Yeah,” he replies calmly. “Which usually means you’re trying not to think.”
I scowl. “You always this observant?”
“Only when it matters,” he says, then lowers his voice. “And right now? It matters.”
We separate, breathing hard.
“You need to keep your head, Rosalind,” he continues.
No accusation. Just concern.
“Honor’s got a lot of baggage he keeps locked down tight. Stuff he doesn’t talk about. Stuff that made him who he is.”
I nod. I already know that much.
“And he’s human,” Miles adds, firm now. “Not built for our world. Not meant to carry what we carry.”
The words land heavy.
“That’s rich coming from you. But I get it,” I say quietly.
“Hope means everything to me. And she loves her brother.”
“I said I get it.”
And I do.
I’m not meant for mates and happy-ever-afters.
Honor is human.
He’s gorgeous. Sexy. Ripped. Surprisingly funny, too.
But still human.
Fragile. Breakable.
Miles studies me for a long moment, then sighs.
“I’m not saying whatever you think I’m saying. And he’s not a bad guy. I like him. Hell, I trust him with my business. But wanting someone doesn’t mean they’re right for you. And the Enforcer just wants us to keep an eye on him.”
My Bear huffs, displeased.
“I know what my job is, Miles.”
“But there’s more. I can sense it.”
I don’t say anything.
“Rosalind, I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt,” Miles finishes. “Especially not you.”
I swallow and give him a small nod. “I appreciate that.”
He claps my shoulder once and steps out of the ring, leaving me alone with the echo of his warning.
I go back to moving—faster now, harder—trying to outrun the truth clawing at my chest.
By the time I finish my cooldown, sweat slick on my skin and my pulse finally evening out, my muscles are burning in that familiar, grounding way. The kind of burn that usually quiets my thoughts.
Today, it doesn’t.
Miles is right. I know he is.
Honor isn’t meant for my world.
He doesn’t belong to the shadows behind Barvale.
To the rules we live by.
To the instincts that sharpen into claws when things go wrong.
He’s human—breakable in ways my Bear refuses to acknowledge.
And the fact that my Bear doesn’t care?
That’s what scares me.
She doesn’t pace or snarl or rage.
She waits.
She lingers at the edge of the metaphysical plane where she lives when I’m not calling on her—where fur and instinct and ancient knowing fold into something patient and terrifying. Her presence presses against my awareness like a held breath.
Listening.
As if she’s waiting for the sound of him.
For his footsteps. His voice. The weight of his attention shifting toward me again.
She remembers the heat of him standing too close. The way his scent changed when he looked at me. Grew stronger, thicker. Filled with promises.
The unguarded honesty in his eyes—like a man who’s seen too much and still keeps going, anyway.
My Sow wants him.
Not as a passing curiosity.
Not as a mistake.
As hers. Mine.
My Bear settles deeper, hunger coiled tight and controlled, waiting for the smallest crack in my resolve.
For fatigue.
For loneliness.
For one bad decision made in the dark.
And I know—deep in my bones—that when that moment comes, she won’t hesitate.
She’ll surge forward, claiming what she believes fate promised long ago.
The thought tightens my chest until it’s hard to breathe.
Because if I lose control—if I let her take the reins—I won’t stop her.
And Honor D’Amato won’t stand a chance against a Bear who’s already chosen him as her mate.