Page 13 of Bear Love’s Hidden Destiny (Esoterra Shifters World #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Isabella

I stood before the Council, the pendant glowing faintly at my neck, its warmth a steady pulse against my skin.

The chamber was carved deep into the heart of Esoterra, its walls lined with ancient roots that twisted like veins, glowing runes etched into their surfaces.

The air was thick, heavy with the scent of earth and old magic.

Five elders sat at a curved stone table, their faces stern, their eyes sharp with suspicion.

Benedict stood beside me, his arm in a sling, his shoulder still healing from the fight with Marek.

His eyes were unwavering, fixed on the elders, his body tense but solid, a quiet strength that grounded me.

My heart pounded, but I kept my chin up, refusing to let them see me falter.

The lead elder, a woman with silver hair and hawk-like eyes, leaned forward, her voice cold. “Isabella Washington, you crossed the Veil without permission. You awakened the old blood, stirred the forest’s magic. Why? What right do you have to carry its power?”

I took a breath, steadying myself. “I didn’t come here to take anything,” I said, my voice clear despite the knot in my stomach.

“I came for answers. My grandfather left me a journal, led me to Fir Hollow, to Esoterra. I didn’t break the Veil.

It let me in. The forest chose to show me the truth. That means something, doesn’t it?”

A murmur ran through the elders, their faces unreadable. A man with a bear’s broad build, his beard streaked with gray, slammed a fist on the table. “You’re a danger,” he said, his voice booming. “Your bloodline was sealed for a reason. The Veilborn nearly destroyed us once. You could do it again.”

“I’m not here to destroy anything,” I said, stepping forward, my hands clenched. “I didn’t ask for this power, but it’s mine now. The forest woke up because of me, not to hurt you, but to protect itself. You can’t control it anymore. It speaks through me, through my blood, through the bond.”

The hawk-eyed elder’s gaze flicked to the pendant, her lips thinning. “That relic belongs to Esoterra,” she said. “Give it up. Prove you’re not a threat.”

I touched the pendant, its warmth spreading through my fingers. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “This is my birthright. My grandfather sealed it to keep it safe, not to hide it from me. I’m not giving it up.”

The elders exchanged glances, tension crackling in the air.

The bearded man opened his mouth to argue, but Benedict stepped forward, his voice steady despite the pain I knew he was hiding.

“She’s my mate,” he said, the words ringing clear in the chamber.

“I claim her, by the old laws. Her fate’s tied to mine now.

You can’t exile her or erase her. She’s part of Esoterra, same as me. ”

Silence fell, heavy and absolute. The elders stared, their expressions shifting from suspicion to something else, recognition, maybe even respect. The hawk-eyed elder leaned back, her eyes narrowing. “A guardian’s mate,” she said, her voice softer now. “That changes things.”

“Does it?” I said, glancing at Benedict, my heart swelling. He met my eyes, a small nod telling me he meant every word.

The bearded elder grunted, his voice grudging. “You may remain. But if the Veil falters again, you’ll answer for it, Veilborn.”

I nodded, my shoulders relaxing slightly. “Fair enough.”

The Council dismissed us, their eyes following us as we left the chamber.

Benedict’s hand found mine, his fingers warm and steady, and we walked out into the forest, the air lighter, the trees standing tall and quiet.

The Veil’s hum was steady now, no longer restless, and I felt it in my chest, a connection that ran deeper than I could explain.

We didn’t speak as we made our way back to his cabin, the familiar path winding through the pines, the stars bright above us.

My body was tired, my mind buzzing, but Benedict’s presence kept me grounded, his hand never leaving mine.

Back at the cabin, we lit a fire, the crackle filling the small space with warmth.

I kicked off my boots, the pendant still warm against my skin, and turned to Benedict.

He was watching me, his eyes soft but intense, the sling on his arm a reminder of everything we’d survived.

I crossed the room, my hands finding his face, and kissed him, hard and urgent, pouring everything into it.

“We made it,” I said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “We’re still here.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low, his good hand sliding to my waist. “Thanks to you.”

I smiled, my fingers brushing his jaw. “You’re not so bad yourself, bear man.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his lips finding mine again.

The kiss deepened, heat flaring between us, driven by everything we’d been through, the fights, the fear, the bond that held us together.

I tugged his shirt off, careful of his sling, my hands roaming his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart.

He pulled my shirt off, his fingers brushing my sides, sending a shiver through me.

We moved to the bed, our bodies already knowing what we needed, the bond pulling us closer.

I pushed him back gently, climbing onto his lap, my hands framing his face as I kissed him, slow and deep, savoring the taste of him.

His good hand slid up my back, unhooking my bra, letting it fall away as his lips moved to my neck, kissing the pulse there, making me gasp.

“Isabella,” he murmured, his voice rough, his hand gripping my hip as I pressed myself against him, feeling the heat of him through my jeans.

I slid my pants off, his jeans following, the air cool against our skin.

I straddled him, my hands on his shoulders, kissing him deeply as I moved over him, slow and deliberate, letting the bond guide us.

His hand slid to my thigh, his fingers tracing the curve, sending a jolt through me.

I leaned down, kissing his jaw, his throat, my lips lingering on the shifter rune etched into his chest, my fingers tracing its lines.

“Benedict,” I whispered, my voice soft but urgent, my hands sliding to his waist, feeling the hard planes of his body.

He groaned, his hand cupping my face as he kissed me, his tongue teasing mine, the kiss deepening until I could barely think.

I moved against him, my hips rocking, and he thrust up to meet me, slow at first, each movement deliberate, drawing a soft moan from me.

His lips found my collarbone, kissing the sensitive skin, then lower, teasing the curve of my breast, his tongue brushing my skin, making me arch into him.

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I moved faster, the rhythm building, heat spreading through every inch of me.

“I love you,” I said, my voice breaking as I looked into his eyes, the bond flaring hot between us.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice rough, his hand sliding to my hip, guiding me as we moved together.

The words sank into me, sealing something deeper, something unbreakable.

I kissed him again, hard and desperate, my hands gripping his shoulders as our movements grew stronger, more urgent.

His lips moved to my throat, kissing the pulse there, his breath ragged as he thrust deeper, each movement pulling us closer.

The bond hummed, wild and alive, binding us with every touch, every breath.

I rode him, my nails grazing his skin, his name falling from my lips as the heat built, consuming us.

We came undone together, our bodies trembling, the bond flaring bright, complete, like a vow written in our blood.

When we collapsed onto the bed, breathless and tangled, he pulled me close, his good arm wrapping around me. “I will never get tired of you,” he said, his voice low, his lips brushing my forehead.

I smiled, nestling against his chest. “It is obvious,” I said, my voice teasing, my hand resting on his heart.

He chuckled, kissing me softly, his hand brushing through my hair.

We lay there, the fire’s warmth wrapping around us, the quiet settling in.

The bond was stronger than ever, a tie that went beyond the forest, beyond the Veil.

By morning, the air was light, the trees outside the cabin standing quiet, their branches still in the dawn breeze.

I sat on the porch, my grandfather’s journal open in my lap, a pen in my hand.

I wrote a new entry, my story, the truth I’d come to find, the legacy I’d claimed.

Beside me, Benedict poured two mugs of coffee, the steam curling in the cool air, and sat down, his shoulder brushing mine.

“What’re you writing?” he asked, handing me a mug.

“My side of it,” I said, taking a sip, the warmth spreading through me. “Everything that happened. Everything we’re going to face.”

He nodded, his eyes on the forest stretching before us. “Sounds like a lot.”

“It is,” I said, leaning against him. “But we’re in it together.”

“Yeah,” he said, his hand finding mine. “Always.”

Isabella writes in the last pages of her grandfather’s journal. A new entry. Her story. Beside her, Benedict pours two mugs of coffee and sits beside her on the porch. The forest stretches before them.

~ END ~

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