Page 5 of Bear Love’s Hidden Destiny (Esoterra Shifters World #3)
Chapter Five
Isabella
I woke slowly, my body still tingling from the night before.
Every muscle ached in a way that brought a flush to my cheeks, memories of Benedict’s hands, his mouth, his weight against me flooding my mind.
I opened my eyes, the dim light of the cabin soft against the wooden walls.
Benedict stood by the window, his back to me, every line of his body tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap.
His face was calm, but his shoulders betrayed him, rigid with alertness.
The fire had dwindled to embers, casting a faint glow across the room.
I sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around me, my skin prickling in the cool air.
My journal lay open on the floor, its pages splayed like an invitation.
I reached for it, my fingers brushing the worn leather, and flipped to the last few pages, searching for anything I’d overlooked.
In the faint firelight, a symbol stood out beneath my name, one I hadn’t noticed before.
It was subtle, nearly invisible in daylight, but the glow brought it into sharp focus, a claw curled around a flame, precise and deliberate.
My breath caught. I’d seen that symbol in old texts, buried in myths from grad school.
The mark of a Veilborn, a bloodline tied to ancient magic, dismissed by most scholars as folklore.
I flipped back through the journal, my grandfather’s notes suddenly making sense.
His cryptic sketches, the rushed warnings, the maps pointing to Fir Hollow, they weren’t random.
He knew I’d end up here. He knew I’d awaken something, something he’d spent his life protecting.
I ran my fingers over the page, tracing the symbol, my mind racing.
This was bigger than I’d thought, and Benedict was right in the middle of it.
I glanced at him, still by the window, his eyes scanning the dark outside. “Benedict,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. “You need to see this.”
He turned, his gaze sharp, and crossed the room in two quick strides. I held up the journal, pointing to the symbol. “This mark, it’s in your carvings, your tattoo, and now here, under my name. It’s a Veilborn symbol. My grandfather knew about it. He knew I’d come here.”
His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he took the journal, studying the page. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low and guarded.
“I’m an archaeologist,” I said, standing up, the blanket still wrapped around me. “I know what I’m looking at. This isn’t some random doodle. It’s tied to this place, to me. What’s a Veilborn, Benedict? And don’t lie to me this time.”
He set the journal on the table, his hands flexing like he was fighting to stay calm. “It’s an old bloodline,” he said after a pause. “Tied to Esoterra, to the magic that keeps this place hidden. Most of them are gone. The Council made sure of that.”
“The Council,” I said, crossing my arms, the blanket slipping slightly. “What happens if they find out about me?”
He met my eyes, his voice flat. “If they think you’re a threat, they’ll bind you to Esoterra, make you stay forever. Or they’ll eliminate you. There’s no middle ground.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my expression steady. “Eliminate me? Like, kill me?”
He nodded once, his face hard. “They don’t take chances with outsiders. Especially not ones with old blood.”
I paced to the fireplace, the blanket trailing behind me. “My grandfather was part of this, wasn’t he? He lived here, or knew about it. That’s why he left me the journal. He wanted me to find this place.”
“Isabella,” Benedict said, stepping closer. “You need to stop. This is bigger than you, bigger than that journal. You go digging, you’re painting a target on your back.”
“I’m done sitting around,” I said, turning to face him. “If my grandfather was here, if he was part of Esoterra, I need to see it for myself. I need answers, and I’m not getting them from you. Take me deeper into the forest, to the heart of this place.”
He shook his head, his voice firm. “It’s too dangerous. The Council doesn’t tolerate outsiders. Even I’m under watch. You step into their territory, you’re not walking out.”
“I’m not asking,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m going, with or without you. But I’d rather you lead the way, since you know this place. I’ll follow your rules, but I’m not turning back.”
He stared at me, his eyes searching mine, like he was weighing his options. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Wear your clothes already before you distract me and we stay locked in here for a whole week.”
I laughed, caught off guard, but before I could move, he reached for the blanket, tugging it gently until it slipped from my shoulders, pooling at my feet. “Beautiful,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made my skin flush.
I swatted his hand, my cheeks burning. “Hey! Give me a second to breathe, you caveman.”
He grinned, stepping closer, his hands settling on my hips. “Can’t help it. You’re standing there like that, what am I supposed to do?”
“Focus,” I said, but my voice wavered as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of my neck, warm and slow. A shiver ran through me, my hands finding his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. “Benedict, we have stuff to do.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured against my skin, kissing lower, along the curve of my shoulder. “Plenty of time for that.”
I laughed, pushing him back gently. “You’re impossible. Let me get dressed before you get us stuck here.”
He stepped back, his grin fading into something softer. “Alright, trouble. Get moving.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my clothes from the floor.
“Trouble? You’re one to talk, mister secret-keeper.
” I pulled on my jeans and sweater, the journal tucked into my backpack.
Benedict grabbed a jacket and a flashlight, his movements quick but deliberate.
As we stepped outside, he took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, warm and steady.
I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re clingy now?”
He chuckled, squeezing my hand. “Just making sure you don’t run off again.”
“Fair,” I said, smiling despite the tension in my chest. The forest was dark, the fog wrapping tighter around the trees as we moved deeper into the old paths.
The trail narrowed, the ground uneven under my boots, but Benedict’s hand kept me steady.
The air felt heavier, pressing against my skin, and something strange stirred in my chest. It wasn’t fear, not exactly.
It was awareness, like the forest was watching me, recognizing me.
The trees seemed to lean closer, their branches whispering in the wind.
My pulse quickened, but I kept my eyes on the path, the journal’s weight in my backpack grounding me.
We walked in silence for a while, the only sound our footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves. Benedict’s grip on my hand tightened as the trail grew steeper, the fog so thick I could barely see ten feet ahead. “Stay close,” he said, his voice low. “This part of the forest doesn’t play nice.”
“Got it,” I said, adjusting my backpack. “What’s in the heart of Esoterra, anyway? Some kind of village? A temple?”
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Something like that. You’ll see.”
“That’s not an answer,” I said, nudging his arm. “Come on, give me something.”
“It’s hard to explain,” he said, his voice softer. “It’s old, older than anything you’ve studied. Just trust me, okay?”
I nodded, but my mind was racing. The journal’s symbols, the Veilborn mark, my grandfather’s notes, they all pointed to something bigger, something alive in this forest. The pull in my chest grew stronger, like a heartbeat syncing with the land itself.
I could feel it, a hum under my skin, like the forest was waking up to meet me.
The trail twisted through denser trees, their trunks gnarled and ancient, their branches forming a canopy that shut out the sky.
I glanced at Benedict, his face set, his eyes scanning the shadows.
He was still holding my hand, his thumb brushing absently over my knuckles, and it steadied me, even as the air grew thicker.
The fog seemed to pulse, curling around us like it was alive. I tightened my grip on Benedict’s hand, my other hand resting on the journal in my backpack. “This place feels different,” I said, my voice quiet. “Like it knows we’re here.”
He looked at me, his eyes sharp. “It does. Keep moving.”
I wanted to ask more, but the weight in the air held me silent.
The forest was reacting, not just to us but to me, like it was waiting for something.
My chest hummed, the awareness growing sharper, and I wondered if Benedict felt it too.
The trail dipped into a ravine, the ground soft with moss, and I stumbled slightly, his hand catching me before I could fall.
“Careful,” he said, his voice low. “We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?” I asked, but he didn’t answer, just kept moving, pulling me along.
The fog parted slightly, revealing a cluster of ancient trees, their trunks wider than I could wrap my arms around.
The air was heavier here, the hum in my chest almost a vibration now, like the land was singing to me.
As we rounded a bend, the trunk of a massive tree shifted and groaned. The bark split open like skin, and two eyes blinked back at me from inside the wood.