Page 10 of Marked By The Filthy-Mouthed Grizzly

CHAPTER EIGHT

Magnus

E ven my bear is quiet tonight.

No snarling, no pacing, no threatening to burst out and wreak havoc. Just a heavy melancholy sadness we’re both drowning in.

I used to fear my bear losing control.

But this stillness? This ache? It's worse.

It feels like he’s lost all reason to live. I feel it too. I’ve never felt this empty.

I’m sitting on the porch of my cabin, slouched deep into an old wooden chair that keeps groaning under my weight.

The dark mountains loom in the distance, black and still.

The silence out here is thick, broken only by the cool breeze rippling through the leaves and the owl hooting in the distance, sounding just as lonely as I feel.

It can’t be over. It just can’t be.

But I keep seeing her horrified face when I told her… and… and it definitely feels like it’s over. It feels like she never wants to see me again.

I take a long breath, inhaling the crisp pine-scented air. I’d kill to go back to that night. Maybe I could have talked to Knox and Mace. Maybe I could have handled it differently—helped change them.

But even as I replay it in my mind, I know that would never have happened. It’s wishful thinking. Those boys were rabid dogs who needed to be put down.

I sigh as a hare hops out of the forest and starts munching on some wildflowers.

I only had a few hours with her. That’s the worst part.

A few perfect, blissful hours where the world made sense. Where the ache inside me dulled for the first time in years. Where everything felt so damn perfect. And then… over.

And it’s worse now.

Worse than before I met her.

Now, I know what I’m missing.

Now, I know that perfect girl is out there and she wants nothing to do with me. At least before, I had a small glimmer of hope that she could walk into my life at any time. Now, I have nothing.

My shoulders sink down as I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to go on.

Then, I hear it.

Tires crunching on the gravel road.

The hare perks up and bounces back into the forest.

I sit up straight, blinking toward the driveway.

It’s probably just Julian or Victoria coming to try and cheer me up even though I just want to be alone.

The headlights slice through the trees, casting moving shadows on my lawn as the car turns onto my long driveway.

“No way…” I whisper when I see the familiar little car pulling into the clearing in front of my cabin.

It’s her. It’s actually her.

My grizzly stirs as my mate parks beside my house. I quickly fix my hair and toss the empty beer bottles into the bushes.

Her engine idles for a moment, then shuts off.

The door opens.

And there she is.

Erica.

My mate.

She walks into the light, her silhouette haloed by headlights, hands in pockets, her jacket pulled tight like a shield. For a second, I wonder if grief has finally broken me—because she looks too perfect to be real.

My heart lurches so hard it feels like it might split open.

I stand silently, not trusting my voice.

She takes one step. Then another. Then she stops, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Her headlights turn off and I can finally see her gorgeous face, lit up in the moonlight. My heart aches, she’s so beautiful.

“I wasn’t going to come,” she says softly. “I was going to drive back home.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t,” I say with a lurch in my throat. “Erica, I’m so sorry.”

She puts her hand up. “I don’t think I can forgive you,” she says, which makes me want to die. “I don’t know how I could.”

I drop my head, devastated. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear.

“Then how come you came?” I ask in a low tortured voice.

“I had to say goodbye,” she says. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

I just stand there, not knowing what to say or do. I don’t know how I can fix this.

“I know you’re not a bad man,” she says, her voice breaking. “I know you didn’t want what happened to happen.”

“I would take it back if I could,” I whisper. “I’d do anything to make it right.”

We’re standing only a few feet apart, the tension so thick I can barely breathe. I just want to go over there and kiss her. To make it all better. But I can’t.

“Well, we are where we are,” she says sadly. “And there’s no fixing what already happened.”

“So,” I say, not wanting to believe it. “This is it?”

She shrugs her slim shoulders, trying not to cry. “I think this is it.”

I’m about to beg her to reconsider, but the faint sound of motorcycles comes rumbling to my ears. She doesn’t hear it yet. It takes her a few seconds.

“What’s that?” she asks fearfully, turning to the sound as she steps back.

“You’ll be safe,” I tell her as my bear steps up inside, ready for anything. “No one is going to hurt you.”

Three motorcycles rumble onto my property, the aggressive headlights slicing through the darkness.

I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes on them as they roll to a stop.

“ Yes ,” I whisper to myself. “Yes.”

This is exactly what I need.

Destruction. Rage. I need to punch something. Hard .

And these fucking biker wolves? They’ll do just fine.