Page 19 of Mated to the Mountain Bear

I grab my book and sink into my chair, pointing to the shelves behind her, where row after row of books sit. “Help yourself.”

She settles at the far end of the couch, but I can feel her restlessness from across the room.

“How do you stand it?” Finally, the question she’s dying to ask bursts out of her. “The silence. The... nothingness.”

I look up from my book and glance out at the beautiful clear sky, and the mountain peaks in the distance. “It’s not nothing. We’re surrounded by nature. And it’s peaceful.”

I am nature. For much of the year, when the weather’s good, I transform into my bear form and wander the hills. There’s no better feeling. But I can’t exactly tell her that.

“It’s isolated.” Her voice cracks slightly. “Completely cut off. I can’t check on anything.”

I see the panic rising within her, but I don’t know how to ease her fears. And I’ve got no idea what I can suggest for her to do to keep her mind off what’s going on.

“It’s not that bad. You’ll survive a few days without TV and internet.”

The comment comes out more dismissive than I intended, and she goes still. As the tense silence drags on, I realise thisis the longest she’s gone without talking, and to my surprise, I don’t like it.

Her voice is dangerously quiet when she speaks. “You think this is about missing my shows? You think I’m upset because I can’t check Instagram?”

I set my book down. “I didn’t mean…”

Shit. This is why I don’t socialise. I’m no good at it. Whatever I say comes out wrong, so I don’t bother saying anything at all.

“My sister is missing.” She stands, hands clenched at her sides, looking like a beautiful spitfire, as she puts me in my place. “I can’t call the police for updates. I can’t check the news to see if they’ve found... anything. And I can’t even let anyone know where I am. But sure, act like I’m some spoiled city girl who can’t survive without social media.”

My bear approves of her spirit.

“Zara…” I go to stand, but she turns away, looking angry and defeated at the same time.

“Forget it.” She limps toward the bedroom, back rigid. “Enjoy your peace.”

The door closes with enough force to rattle the windows. Not quite a slam, but close enough. I stare at the closed door, wishing I knew what to do.

Shit. Now I remember why I keep to myself. Why I don’t even try to find a mate. And why I really didn’t want Beau to leave this woman, who I find so tempting, in my home.

Suddenly, my peace feels a lot less peaceful, and my bear is a lot less satisfied.

Mainly with me.

6

BEN

The afternoon stretches on, long and uncomfortable, after our confrontation about the TV. I keep my nose in my book, pretending to read, while she emerges from the bedroom and moves quietly through the cabin.

I hear her puttering in the kitchen. Cupboards open and close as she takes a mug. A spoon clinks against ceramic.

From behind my book, I watch her drift through the living room. She pauses at the bookshelf, fingers hovering over spines, but not pulling anything out. Next, she moves to the window and stares out at the mountains for a long moment before deciding to venture outside.

The front door opens and closes with a soft click.

I turn another page, determined to give her space, but too distracted to read. But as the minutes tick by, my bear grows increasingly agitated. At first, I ignore him, stubbornly clinging to the idea that some alone time is nice to have, but I can’t focus.

Finally, I admit defeat and set the book aside with a frustrated groan, heading for the door.

She’s still sitting on the top porch step, coffee mug cradled in her hands. The late evening sun has turned everything golden,but she’s not admiring the view. Her gaze is fixed on the empty driveway stretching down the hill.

I lean against the porch post, arms folded across my chest, as I stare at her drooped shoulders, her palpable sadness making my bear whine. “It’s getting cold out here.”