Page 22 of Just Right (The Beasts of Blackmoor #3)

JUST RIGHT

I f I doubted that making the decision to accept all three of my bears as my mates meant something Blackmoor, the next morning erases all of that.

I haven’t quite hit twenty-one days just yet—because, yup, I’ve gambled my forever on three bear shifters I met little more than two weeks ago—but from the moment Rowan bit me, leaving his mark, I think I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

That’s not saying that I can’t. In three days, I could go. I’d be given that plane ticket back to the states, five grand to help replenish my savings, and if they can be trusted to grant my wish, Blackmoor would give me the answer to what happened to Charlotte.

Only… I think I have an idea. Because I know Char.

I know the woman she was, even if she hid the fact that she was going on a backpacking trip straight to a mythical forest from her best friend.

Say Blackmoor let her in. Assuming the forest welcomed her because, like me, she had her own part to play in some long-told story, if she found her happily-ever-after, nothing would’ve dragged her out of this forest.

Not even me.

Am I just telling myself that because I plan on abandoning my quest to find her?

Not really, especially since I haven’t given up.

So maybe I could use my wish to get answers.

If Charlotte decided to stay in Blackmoor after all, if I do, too, that gives me all the time I need to search every inch of these woods to track her down.

And if she didn’t? Then maybe she doesn’t want to be found.

Maybe she can’t be.

I loved her. Love her. She was my best friend, and the closest thing to a sister that I’ve ever had. I won’t give up on her, but at the same time, wouldn’t she want me to be happy?

My bears? My mates … they make me happy.

And they are my mates now. It might’ve taken a couple of days for Rowan’s bite to scab over, but as though the magic in Blackmoor agrees with me that I should choose Rowan, Finn, and Colt, the bites the twins gave me healed overnight.

The final bits of scabs from Rowan’s mark are gone, too.

I have three silvery-white bites on my skin: one on the side of my neck, one on my shoulder, and one on my right wrist that tells any shifter in these woods that three brown bear shifters consider me theirs, just like they’re mine .

I asked Colt the next day why, during our triple coupling, did he decide to bite me on my wrist like that. I should’ve expected a unique answer from the middle brother, and that’s exactly what I get.

“Because your pulse beats there, little thief.”

I didn’t understand. “So?”

He grabbed my hand, tracing his bite with his fingertip. Slowly, seductively, he traced my nearest vein. He went down my forearm, circled the inner bend of my elbow, traveled up my upper arm, then laid his entire hand on my left tit.

Now that I’m their marked and claimed mate, I’ve noticed that none of my bears seem concerned that I won’t welcome their attention.

Considering I spent more than a few nights sleeping with Finn’s cock nestled inside of me, and my initial suspicions that Colt would be the type of guy who’d drop trou and shove his cock in whenever he has the opportunity have proven spot-on so far, I’m glad.

If I’m being honest, it was Rowan I was the most concerned with.

He still has this tendency to hang back, but that’s only because I know how possessive he can be when he needs his mate.

When he needs me .

Right now, it’s Colt’s turn. Rowan dragged Finn out to do the morning’s chopping, and if that’s because the three brothers have decided amongst themselves—again with their decisions, only I agree with this one—that while I’m happy to be with them all together, there are moments when each of them requires a little private time to be with their mate.

For a moment, I thought that that was what was going on with Colt when he grabbed my boob. I’d taken the time alone with him to talk, but if he wanted to spend it doing something else, I was down.

I was half right. I did end up enjoying myself in Colt’s super soft bed, but not until he admitted that he wanted to mark my pulse because it reminded him of my heart.

And why did that mean so much to me?

Because I finally learned why he called me his ‘little thief’ when he told me, “It’s not just your heart beating in your chest. It’s mine, Aurelia, because that’s what you stole from me the moment I first caught your scent in my bed.

Then I saw you in Finn’s… and it didn’t matter.

Whether you were mine or ours, I didn’t care.

You stole my heart, and I can’t think of any better fucking better place than in your keeping. ”

So, yeah, of course I had to go upstairs with him to show how touched I was to hear him say that.

And then, when Finn arrived after lunch, I shared some salmon grilled over an open fire with him before he coated his dick with one of his last batch of fresh honey, allowing me to lap at his straining erection for dessert before he topped off with something so satisfyingly salty.

And then Rowan came searching for me to take a walk out in the woods together. No surprise that that ended with dip into the river before my big bear used his body to warm me up in the best way possible...

During our walk, he offered to take me to go searching for Charlotte again. I know what he’s doing. The oldest brother can’t stop brushing his thumb against my bite, as though it was essential that he remind himself that he claimed me.

We don’t talk about what will happen when the three weeks are over.

To me, there’s no reason to. Why, when I made it clear by choosing all three of them as my mates?

Still, he seems like he’s been bracing himself these final few contracted days.

That’s why he wants to continue to look for my best friend.

Because, if there’s another reason for me to stay…

I tell him ‘no’. I tell him ‘later’. I tell him that we’re in our honeymoon period, and if he doesn’t want to spend time strengthening our new bond, I’m sure Finn or Colt—or Finn and Colt—will.

Of course, all that did was trigger his own possessive side.

And though the best part of taking my three bears as my mates is that I don’t have to choose, it’s another boost to my esteem that Rowan can’t wait to return to the cabin to have me under him.

And as Rowan roars my name as he fills me up with everything he has, I tell myself that I’m making the right choice.

Again.

It’s day twenty-two, and I decide to celebrate by getting up early and fixing breakfast for my mates.

No matter what, breakfast is porridge. Usually that’s what they chow down on when it comes to a snack for my big brown bears.

Whether that’s because the old fairytale says that the bears live in a cabin and eat porridge and we’re just stuck in the endless cycle or retelling the same story, or because Finn and Colt and Rowan just really fucking like porridge, I’m not sure, but at least it’s easy to get together.

I grab ice from the icebox to cool Colt’s down.

For Rowan and his need for heat and spice, I grab one of the shakers in the pantry that Finn pointed out.

Dried chiles from who knows where does the trick.

As for Finn, I add a few of the flavors I like, knowing that when he tastes it, no matter what he’ll tell me that I got it just right.

It’s easy to get together, but with three different orders, it’s more time-consuming than I expect, especially since my mates have been cooking for me since I basically barged into their lives.

It’s a good thing that I snuck out of Rowan’s bed earlier to get this done.

With the extra padding I stole from Colt’s pile, Rowan’s hard bed is a lot easier to lie in—even if it’s not as comfortable as Finn’s just yet—but despite falling asleep next to him, I made sure to come down to get breakfast ready before he awoke.

Now, did I know that he might notice me gone and worry? I’d hoped not, but I guess I forgot who I was dealing with for a moment. Because Rowan freaking Brown is not happy at all when he comes stomping down the stairs, storming into the kitchen, a foul mood on his gorgeous face.

He’s grumbling under his breath, hands curled into tight fists at his side.

He’s huffing, too, fangs lengthening past his bottom lip as though fighting back his bear.

I don’t mind when my mates shift to their beasts; after all, if I mated one part of them, I mated the other, too, even if I draw the line at letting the animal mount me.

But whenever Rowan is on the edge of control? I know that shit’s about to go down.

“Morning, big guy. Don’t worry about getting the porridge ready. I did that— whoa .”

It all happens so quickly. One second, he’s staring at me as if he can’t believe what he sees.

Like I’m a ghost or something. Then, moving quicker than a man of his size should be able to—though, duh, Goldie…

he’s a bear —he’s suddenly right there, tucking me against him, holding me tight as if afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re here. Fuck . I thought you were gone?—”

“Of course I am, Rowan. Couldn’t you tell I was down here?”

He breathes in deep, taking my scent into his lungs.

“Goldie,” he rasps before exhaling roughly, his warm breath sending a few stray curls away from my face.

“My Goldie… don’t you know that you’re in my heart.

In my soul. In my head. In my fucking snout.

You’re everywhere, and I pray that it stays that way. But you were gone this morning?—”

I tap his shoulder. He’s squeezing me, not so tightly that it hurts, but it is a pretty tight squeeze. “Yeah. Because I thought I’d get breakfast going. I mean, if I’m staying?—”

“Staying?” He pulls back, his eyes traveling over my face, hope and hesitation warring in his expression. “You’re staying.”