Chapter 17-Honor
Two Days Later
The water from the hose is cold as fuck, and Hope seems to take real pleasure in spraying it all over my butt-ass naked body like she’s getting revenge for every childhood grievance she ever had.
“Keep your cock covered,” my asshole brother-in-law barks.
As if I’m suddenly going to drop my hands and flash my sister.
What the actual fuck.
Hope snorts and immediately turns the hose on Miles instead.
He just grunts, water splashing off his skin like it’s nothing.
I want to hate him, but the truth is I can’t. This fucker stayed with me through my first change and that—well, it means a lot.
Forms a brotherhood between us I wasn’t expecting. I sniff.
Shit. Pull yourself together.
Next, I grab one of the towels Hope’s laid out on the Adirondack chairs and wrap it around my waist, jaw clenched.
I still need a real shower. Soap. Hot water.
Something that smells like human and not wet forest and Bear.
And then I need my phone.
Because fuck—I miss her.
Ever since I stalked off into the woods to wrestle my Bear into submission, Rosalind has been the only thing on my mind.
Every thought loops back to her.
Every instinct pulls in her direction.
And now I understand why.
The change did things to me I wasn’t prepared for.
Turns out the gene Miles mentioned?
It’s something my family has always had.
Dormant. Sleeping. Waiting.
Hope too—I can smell it on her now, her Bear woven into her scent like it’s always been there. I just didn’t know how to read it before.
But now? Now the pieces finally fit.
Barvale isn’t just some sleepy New Jersey town.
It’s a Shifter stronghold—home of the Barvale Clan, where Bear Shifters have lived, loved, and ruled for over a century.
The kind of place where magic hangs in the trees, where bloodlines run deeper than anyone dares to admit, and where the supernatural isn’t fantasy—it’s reality.
My family’s part of that history, even if we were raised to forget.
The D’Amato bloodline had thinned over generations, diluted until no one thought the Bear could ever rise again.
Until Hope. And now me.
“See, son,” Marcus Devlin—Alpha of the Barvale Clan—had said that first night, still half in his Bear form, his eyes glowing with some ancient truth, “there’s magic in everything.
Even us. Sometimes, that magic sleeps. But when a Shifter is lucky enough to find their fated mate?
That bond can stir a dormant Bear to life. ”
He’d glanced at me then, calm and steady.
“That’s what happened to your sister. And that’s what’s happening to you.”
I swallowed hard. “You mean, Rosalind’s my fated mate?”
Marcus didn’t answer directly.
He just tilted his head, that patient Alpha stare holding mine.
“You tell me, son.”
And in that moment, it was like something ancient cracked open in my chest.
Every instinct, every heartbeat, every thought I’d had since I first laid eyes on Rosalind—the pull.
The heat. That intense desire.
The overwhelming need to protect her, claim her, never let her go.
It all clicked into place.
She’s not just someone I’m into.
She’s mine.
Fated.
Mate.
Chosen by something bigger than either of us.
And now that I know?
There’s no unknowing it.
No going back.
Only forward. To her.
And I want that. I want to embrace this unparalleled attraction between us.
Want to revel in the way needing Rosalind feels like breathing—necessary and impossible to ignore.
When I first saw her while I was in my fur, the Bear inside me surged hard, fast, absolute.
Claim her.
Bite her.
Mark her.
I had to fight him.
Had to wrestle that massive, instinct-driven beast down and force him to back off.
It took everything I had—every scrap of willpower—to pull away instead of going to her.
But I did.
I was so afraid I’d hurt her like that.
But now, after however long it’s been, we’re back and I need her.
“I missed you so much, Miles,” Hope murmurs softly, stepping into her mate’s space. “I had no idea you’d be gone two whole days.”
I whip my head around.
“Two days?”
She shoots me a look.
“Yes, you brat. You kept my mate from me for forty-eight hours, and don’t think I’m forgiving you anytime soon—”
I don’t hear the rest.
Because two days?
My chest tightens hard enough that it hurts.
I turn and bolt for the house, towel barely staying in place, because I need my phone now.
I need to hear Rosalind’s voice.
Need to explain.
Need to make sure she didn’t mean what she said that night—that bit about leaving me.
No.
Please no.
My Bear rears up inside me, furious, panicked, threatening to tear me apart from the inside.
What if she meant it?
What if she doesn’t want me anymore?
A snarl builds deep in my throat.
Because that? That’s not even a fucking option.
Mate.
Mine.
I grab my cell phone off the nightstand with shaking hands and call.
It rings.
And rings.
Then goes to voicemail.
“Fuck,” I breathe, heart hammering.
I text instead.
Honor
Rosie?
Rosalind, please. We need to talk. I’m back. Please answer.
Nothing.
No dots. No response.
Just silence.
I fumble with my phone, type Furry Smiles into the search bar with shaking hands, and jab the call button.
It rings once.
Twice.
“Furry Smiles, this is Timmy! How can I make your day brighter?”
His chipper tone grates against the storm rising in my chest.
“I need to speak to Rosalind Carrera,” I grind out, trying—and failing—to keep the growl from roughening my voice.
There’s a pause on the line.
Too long.
My Bear surges.
“Now.”
Timmy squeaks, drops the phone. I hear muffled voices in the background.
Then he returns, “Sorry, she’s not available. Can I take a message?”
“No,” I snarl and hang up.
Fuck. Calling is out.
I need to see her.
Explain.
Beg if I have to.
But I can’t do that like this—smelling like fur and dirt and whatever the hell else comes with losing two days to a Bear I barely understand.
So I drop the phone and move to the bathroom, turning on the shower.
Hot water slams down, steam rising fast as I scrub at my skin like I can wash the fear away.
And for the first time in a long time, I pray.
Please don’t be gone. Don’t leave me, Rosie.
Please, please, please.
Because now that I know what you are to me—now that I understand—I’m not strong enough to lose you.