Page 14

FOURTEEN

C harov reared up on his hind legs and towered over the largest beast of the pack. His massive bear form cast a long shadow in the suns of Nova Aurora, his fur rippling with muscle as he roared a challenge that echoed through the ravine. The beasts—wolf-like creatures with split jaws and elongated limbs native to the outer territories—had cornered the children in a perfect ambush spot. Now they were the ones being hunted.

The alpha beast lunged at him again. Charov batted it aside with a swipe that sent it backward into the rocky cliffside. His bear growled with satisfaction deep in his chest.

A dark blur crashed through the undergrowth—Oberon, his massive black fur a stark contrast to Charov’s dark brown. His friend had arrived in full bear glory and immediately tackled two of the beasts that were trying to circle around.

About time you showed up , Charov projected telepathically, a skill bear shifters shared when both in animal form.

You looked like you were having too much fun without me , Oberon’s thoughts rumbled back. Left flank .

Charov pivoted just as another beast attempted to dart past. He charged, forcing it back toward the ravine exit where they wanted the pack to flee. As crown prince, Charov had learned long ago that conservation mattered more than dominance. These weren’t evil creatures—just predators seeking prey in his territory. They needed redirection, not extermination.

Together, they herded the pack, strategically blocking escape routes except the one that led away from settled lands. The alpha beast made a final, desperate lunge at Charov, who caught it with his massive paws and lifted it off the ground. He stared into its eyes, communicating one primal message: this territory is protected.

When he dropped the creature, it scampered away, the rest of the pack following in a disorderly retreat.

They won’t be back for a season at least , Oberon projected. That alpha will remember your scent in its nightmares.

Charov nodded his massive head, watching until the last creature disappeared over the ridge. Only then did he allow his bear form to recede, bones cracking and reshaping as he transformed back to his human form.

Naked and covered in dirt, he stood tall, unconcerned with his nudity. Being royal had taught him dignity existed regardless of circumstances.

Oberon shifted beside him with a groan. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“You’re two years younger than me,” Charov scoffed, running his fingers through his dark hair.

“Yes, but I don’t have a beautiful Earth woman waiting to see if I survived.” Oberon smirked as he walked toward the transport, his muscles flexing with each step.

The mention of Bess sent an unexpected surge of possessiveness through Charov. He hadn’t planned for, or even originally wanted, this fire she ignited in him, hadn’t expected the thrill of showing her his world—or the satisfaction of protecting it while she watched.

Oberon popped the trunk and tossed him a bundle of clothes. “Your Highness’s royal garments.”

“Shut up,” Charov laughed, catching the simple clothes—black tactical pants and a fitted T-shirt that wouldn’t announce his royal status. He pulled them on with practiced efficiency. “Those kids were from the valley village, weren’t they?”

“Yep. Third time this season they’ve wandered too far.” Oberon dressed quickly. “But first time they had a royal escort and an Earth guardian angel.”

Charov paused. “How was she with them?”

“Your mate?” Oberon’s emphasis made Charov’s eyes narrow. “She had them wrapped safely in her arms by the time I left. She was completely calm despite never seeing shifting before. Not the reaction I expected from a boring human.”

There was that word again—boring—but somehow it didn’t seem to fit anymore. Not after seeing Bess leap from a plane with a wild laugh, not after watching her face light up throughout the day.

Charov felt his bear stir restlessly, hungry for something beyond the simple adrenaline of the fight. “Let’s not keep her waiting then.”

Charov climbed into the back of the elegant transport, his body still humming with post-battle energy. The scent hit him first—Bess’s delicate floral-citrus perfume mixed with the faint sugar smell of young children. The combination stirred something primal in his chest.

“—and that’s how astronauts manage to eat in space,” Bess was saying, her hands gesturing in a way that had all three children utterly captivated.

The kids—two boys and a girl from the valley village, all with the distinctive silver-flecked hair of hill-dwelling Nova Aurorans—sat cross-legged on the floor of the spacious vehicle. Their eyes widened when they spotted him.

“Your Highness!” The tallest boy scrambled to his knees. “You saved us from the gall wolves!”

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” the girl whispered, her fingers curling into small fists of excitement.

Charov slid onto the leather seat beside Bess, his thigh pressing against hers. He allowed himself a small smile, enjoying both the children’s reverence and Bess’s subtle shift toward him rather than away.

“I’m just glad I was nearby to hear you.” He leaned forward, dropping his tone to a conspiratorial level. “Though perhaps next time, you three could honor your parents’ warnings about wandering past the eastern ridge?”

The kids squirmed, exchanging guilty glances.

“We were tracking star beetles,” the smallest boy admitted.

“A beetle collection isn’t worth your lives.” Charov’s voice remained even but firm. “My father once told me the true measure of courage is knowing when adventure crosses into foolishness.”

Bess’s hand brushed his, a featherlight touch that sent heat racing up his arm. “The prince is right. Even Earth has dangerous places where children shouldn’t go alone.”

“Do Earth children have royal protectors too?” the girl asked, scooting closer with unabashed curiosity.

Bess laughed, the sound ringing against the transport’s windows like music. “Not exactly. But we have our own kinds of heroes.”

The warmth in her voice when she glanced at him made his bear rumble with pleasure. Charov hadn’t expected to enjoy being anyone’s hero—it felt like another duty, another expectation. But seeing that look in Bess’s eyes made something click into place inside him.

Oberon navigated the vehicle down the winding road to the valley village, a collection of domed houses nestled among ancient trees. Parents waited anxiously at the village center, rushing forward when the transport stopped.

“Remember what we discussed,” Charov said as the children prepared to exit. “Straight home, and no more adventure seeking without proper supervision.”

They nodded solemnly, though he caught the gleam of mischief still lurking in their eyes. Children were the same across all territories—rules were merely suggestions to their wild hearts.

Once the children were safely delivered, Oberon guided the transport back toward their town. Charov turned to fully face Bess, taking in her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair.

“You were incredible with them,” he said, noticing her hands trembling slightly in her lap. “Are you all right?”

Her eyes met his, swimming with an emotion he couldn’t immediately place. “I was so worried about you,” she whispered. “Those creatures were vicious, and there were so many of them.”

The concern in her voice struck him like a physical blow. Not fear of his shifting form—fear for his safety. Something cracked in the careful wall he had built around his heart. His bear surged forward, demanding he comfort their mate.

“Hey.” He captured her hands between his larger ones, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. “I’ve been fighting gall wolves since I was a teenager. They look terrifying, but my bear can handle them.”

“I know you’re capable, but that doesn’t stop me from caring if you get hurt.”

The simple statement slammed into him with unexpected force. When was the last time someone had worried about him—not the crown prince, not the future king, but him? His parents loved him, of course, but they expected his strength. Oberon was loyal but would never show such naked concern.

The mate bond hummed between them, stronger than he had ever felt with anyone. This was what Gerri promised—not just any match, but the perfect match. His true mate.

Charov had fought this connection, fearing the devastating grief he witnessed in his mother. But sitting here with Bess, her eyes shining with worry for him, he couldn’t imagine refusing this gift any longer. The pain of potential future loss suddenly seemed a fair exchange for whatever time they might have together.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way now,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

“What?”

He smiled, running his thumbs across her knuckles. “Nothing. Just thinking that bears protect what’s theirs.”

Charov’s hands remained entwined with Bess’s, their connection strengthening with each passing moment. His bear purred with contentment—a rare feeling that surprised him. He planned to show her the crystal caves next where the light refracted in ways that made Earth’s northern lights look dull by comparison, followed by dinner at Nova Aurora’s finest restaurant.

His comm device vibrated against his wrist. The royal crest flashed across the screen—his father’s personal line. Concern jolted through him as he tapped to answer.

“Father?”

“My son.” King Sawyr’s voice sounded stronger than it had in weeks. “I’m having a good day. The best in months.”

Charov’s heart leaped. “That’s wonderful news.”

“I hear you’ve been showing your Earth mate our territory’s finest views.” There was a hint of playfulness in his father’s tone that Charov hadn’t heard in far too long.

“Word travels fast,” Charov replied, his eyes meeting Bess’s curious gaze.

“When the heir jumps from royal aircraft with a human, people notice.” His father’s chuckle dissolved into a brief cough. “I’d like to meet this brave woman before I rest tonight.”

The request wasn’t truly a request—it was a royal command wrapped in gentle words. Charov felt the weight of it, along with hope blooming in his chest. If his father was feeling better, perhaps...

But he looked at Bess, remembering how she had thrown herself into every experience today without complaint. His bear growled protectively. She deserved consideration, not commands.

“Father, one moment.” He muted the call and turned to Bess, his eyes intense. “My father is having a good day and wishes to meet you now. I won’t force this on you if you’re tired from our adventures.”

Bess squeezed his hand, her green eyes shining. “Of course, I’d be honored to meet your father.”

Something sharp and possessive flared in Charov’s chest. This woman had just faced wild beasts and skydiving without flinching. Now she would face a king with the same grace.

“We’re on our way,” he told his father, ending the call.

“Oberon, change of plans.” His voice brooked no argument. “Take us back to the castle now.”

Upon arriving, Charov escorted Bess to her chambers. She touched his arm gently, sending electricity through his skin.

“I’d like to freshen up first. Give me ten minutes?”

“Take whatever time you need.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, unable to resist the contact. “You don’t need to change a thing to impress my father—you’ve already impressed his son.”

The flush that spread across her face sent his bear into a frenzy of possession. He forced himself to step back before he gave in to the urge to claim her lips right there.

Charov soon strode through the royal wing toward his father’s royal chambers. He nodded curtly to the guards who snapped to attention. Dr. Morran stood reviewing charts outside the king’s room.

“Tell me the truth,” Charov demanded without preamble.

Dr. Morran’s face fell. “Your Highness?—”

“He sounds better. He feels better. Explain.”

The doctor’s eyes held the compassion Charov had come to dread. “It’s called terminal lucidity, Your Highness. A surge of clarity and energy that sometimes comes before...” The doctor cleared his throat. “It’s not a sign of recovery. If anything, it often signals the final decline.”

Charov’s jaw clenched, defiance rising in him. “You’ve been wrong before.”

“Your father’s illness has spread to his bloodstream. It’s resistant to all our treatments.” Dr. Morran’s voice was gentle but unflinching. “I’m sorry, but I recommend you cherish this time with him.”

Charov turned away, unwilling to let anyone see the emotions warring on his face. He was about to argue when movement caught his eye. Bess glided toward them down the corridor, and his breath caught in his chest.

She had changed into a Nova Auroran dress of deep emerald that matched her eyes, the fabric flowing around her curves like water. Her hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, and she had applied a subtle shimmer to her skin that caught the light.

She was magnificent—regal without trying, powerful in her quiet confidence. His mate. His queen.

His bear roared its approval, drowning out the doctor’s grim warnings and his own fears. In this moment, introducing Bess to his father was all that mattered. Tomorrow’s grief could wait for tomorrow.