Chapter Sixteen – Spencer
That went better than expected, Spencer’s bear said as they headed back to the truck.
It sure did, Spencer agreed.
He’d even go so far as to call it perfect. His family had been warm, welcoming, and not overwhelming, treating Meryl as if she were already a part of the family. More importantly, Meryl seemed to have enjoyed herself.
Now, driving back to Pine Cottage, Spencer was ready to take the next step. Ready to tell Meryl everything.
Yes. It’s time, his bear said.
Spencer glanced over at Meryl. She was looking out the window, her profile softened by the moonlight filtering through the trees. She seemed more relaxed than she had even a few hours ago. Perhaps relieved, the dinner was behind her.
When they’d entered the restaurant, and she’d realized it was a private dinner rather than a party, he’d been worried she might have bolted. Or at least held it against him.
But she hadn’t.
“So, your verdict?” he asked.
“The food was incredible,” she said, turning to look at him.
“It was,” he agreed. “And my family? They weren’t too much?”
“No. Your family is wonderful,” she said with a nod. “I liked them.”
“And they liked you.” Spencer turned his attention to the winding mountain road, but he could feel her gaze still on him.
His bear rumbled with satisfaction. She fits in with them. She belongs.
The road curved and dipped as they climbed higher toward Pine Cottage. The headlights cut through the mountain darkness, and the quiet after the restaurant felt deeper than before.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Meryl said.
Spencer nodded, his throat suddenly tight. The cottage came into view around the final bend, dark and waiting. When he parked, neither of them moved immediately to get out.
“Would you like to come in?” Meryl asked.
The simple question carried weight far beyond its words. Spencer turned to look at her properly, taking in the uncertainty in her expression, the openness that hadn’t been there when they first met.
“I would,” he said.
They walked to the door together, close enough that their hands brushed, each point of contact sending sparks across his skin. It was as if the night was charged with energy. With expectation.
The house was cool and dark when they stepped inside. Meryl switched on a lamp, and the sitting room bloomed into warm light, showing all their careful work — the brass fixtures, the clean hearth, the windows they’d repaired together.
Tell her now, his bear urged. The moment is right.
Spencer watched as Meryl set her bag down and moved around the room, turning on another lamp. She looked as if she belonged here. Like she might stay.
For the first time, he truly believed she might not leave.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked, turning toward the kitchen.
“Actually,” Spencer said, the words spilling out before he could second-guess them, “I’d like to show you something. Outside.”
Meryl tilted her head slightly. “Outside? Now?”
“In the garden.” He hesitated. “If that’s okay.”
She studied him for a moment, curiosity replacing confusion. “All right.”
Spencer led her through the back door and into the garden. The night was clear, stars sharp overhead, the air cool but not cold. The garden Meryl had begun to reclaim spread before them, no longer choked with weeds but still wild at the edges.
“It’s beautiful out here at night,” she said, looking up at the stars.
Spencer stopped in the center of the garden where moonlight pooled on the grass. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Do it now, his bear said. No more waiting.
“Meryl.” His voice came out lower than he intended. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She turned to him, and he saw uncertainty in her face.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He took a breath. “About who I am. What I am.”
Her brows drew together slightly. “What do you mean?”
Spencer looked at her, memorizing her face in this moment before everything changed.
“Let me show you. It’ll make more sense that way.”
Before she could say anything else, Spencer stepped back, giving himself space. He held her gaze, letting her see the truth in his eyes, then let the shift take him.
It happened in an instant — the air crackled with static electricity, for a moment he disappeared, and then he was there on all fours, a massive brown bear where a man had been seconds before.
Meryl gasped, stumbling backward until she hit the trunk of the old apple tree. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock.
Spencer stayed perfectly still, letting her see him. Hoping she could see past the fur and claws and see that the bear and man were one and the same.
“Oh my,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “Oh, my.”
His bear wanted to move toward her, to press his head against her hand, to show her there was nothing to fear. But the bear stood still, giving her time.
Meryl’s breathing came fast and shallow. She pressed herself against the tree trunk, her gaze never leaving him.
“Spencer?” Her voice trembled on his name.
He nodded his massive head once, slowly, deliberately.
Minutes passed in stunned silence. Spencer waited, his bear form motionless, watching as Meryl’s mind worked furiously behind her eyes. He could almost see her reassembling everything she thought she knew.
Go to her, Spencer urged his bear.
Still afraid Meryl might run, the bear took a step forward. Then another.
Then he stopped, unsure of what to do. Spencer could feel his bear’s impatience warring with caution.
Careful now. Don’t rush her.
The bear huffed softly and stretched out his snout toward Meryl, moving with deliberate gentleness. Every instinct screamed to go to her, claim her, mark her with his scent, but this had to be her choice.
Meryl swallowed hard, her throat working visibly in the moonlight. Then, to Spencer’s amazement, she took a small step away from the tree’s safety. Her eyes locked directly with his—not looking away, not avoiding the reality of what stood before her.
“Spencer?” Her voice was stronger now, more certain.
The bear huffed and nodded, his heart pounding so hard Spencer thought Meryl might hear it echoing through the night air.
She shook her head slowly, disbelief warring with the evidence of her own eyes. Then, in a move that made his breath catch, she hunkered down to his level, making herself more vulnerable.
She trusts us enough to do that, his bear noted with wonder.
The bear inched forward slowly until he was close enough that she could touch him if she wished.
And how he wished she would. But he waited, barely breathing, every nerve ending alive with anticipation of that first touch.
Then Meryl reached out a trembling hand and stroked the thick fur on his head. The bear closed his eyes in pure bliss, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his entire body.
Our mate, at last, his bear rumbled inside. She’s touching us. Accepting us.
Spencer let out a long sigh of relief. After all the waiting, all the fear and hesitation, she wasn’t running. She was here, her fingers working through his fur, exploring the reality of him.
Meryl spent several minutes just touching him, her fingers growing more confident as they traced the contours of his head, the sensitive spot behind his ears, down to his powerful shoulders.
The bear couldn’t help himself—he rubbed his head against her arm, marking her with his scent in the most primal way.
Then she did something that broke him completely. She wrapped her arms around his massive neck and buried her face in his fur.
“How is this possible?” she whispered against him, her breath warm through his coat.
Spencer wished he could answer, wished he could explain everything—the mate bond, all of it—but those were human words that needed a human voice.
Meryl leaned away, her eyes wide with wonder rather than fear now. “You are incredible,” she murmured. Then, with a small smile, “But can I speak to Spencer now?”
The bear nodded once, understanding completely. She needed words. Explanations. Things only his human form could provide.
Spencer’s bear let go of the world, and in an instant, the air popped and crackled with static electricity. His bear form disappeared, and in an instant, Spencer stood before her in his human form once more.
“That’s...” Meryl swallowed hard. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” he said quietly. “It’s who I am.”
“And what exactly is that?” Her voice rose slightly.
“A shifter,” Spencer said, keeping things simple. “I can change from a bear to a man and back again.”
Meryl looked up at him, her eyes searching his face as if seeing the real him for the first time. “How long have you been able to do that?”
“Since puberty.”
She shook her head slightly, disbelief warring with the evidence of her own eyes. “And the rest of your family? At dinner tonight? They’re all...?”
“Not all. My brothers and my father.”
He was not ready to tell her about Estelle and Adara. That was a story for another day.
Meryl fell silent, and Spencer’s heart constricted. This was the moment he had feared — her pulling away, her mind constructing walls between them.
“I should have told you sooner,” he said.
“Why now?” she asked.
Spencer moved closer, stopping a few feet away. “Because I think you might stay. Here at Pine Cottage. And if there’s any chance of that, you deserve to know who I am. All of me.”
The words hung between them in the night air.
Slowly, Meryl stepped closer. Spencer held his breath, afraid he might say something or do something to ruin this.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“You don’t have to say anything.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Just... don’t leave. Not tonight.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes reflecting the starlight. Then she reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and touched his arm as if to make sure he was real.
“I’m not leaving,” she said.
The relief that washed through him was so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees. His bear rumbled with joy.
She’s staying. She knows, and she’s staying.