Page 47 of Mated to the Mountain Bear

“Good.”

That bold statement, delivered with force, is making my chest tighten. I look up to find him watching me with an intense focus that makes me squirm.

“I should probably head to bed,” I say, suddenly needing space before I climb into his lap.

“Zara.” He stops me as I pass his chair. His warm, calloused hand catches mine. I stare down at where his thumb brushes over the delicate skin on the inside of my wrist. “You did well today. You’re stronger than you think.”

For a moment, we stay frozen like that, his hand holding mine, the fire painting everything in warm gold.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

“Night.”

While he takes another long swig from his bottle, I float to the bedroom on a cloud of contentment. I sink into the familiar comfort of the bed and replay the day.

The ghost of his hands on mine. The approval in his voice.

Maybe this thing between us isn’t as one-sided as I thought. Maybe, when this is all over, when it’s safe, and I’ve found Amber, we could...

I drift off to sleep, feeling safer and more hopeful than I have in weeks. The last thing I remember is the sound of him banking the fire, and the familiar creak of his footsteps in the living room.

But in the darkness, the dreams find me anyway, determined to ruin my peace.

I’m running through the woods, branches tearing at my clothes. But this time, it’s not a man chasing me. It’s something worse, something with teeth and claws.

Something that whispers my name as it breathes down my neck.

15

BEN

I’m banking the fire for the night when I hear her stirring in the bedroom. My body tenses with anticipation, remembering last night, the soft sounds she made, and the way she gasped my name in the darkness.

My bear stirs, hopeful. Maybe she’s thinking of me again. Maybe...

But then, I hear it. Not pleasure this time, a whimper. A scared sound that makes my blood run cold.

“No,” she whispers from behind the closed door. “Please, no.”

This is nothing like last night, each plea cutting through me. I grip the poker still in my hand, knuckles white, torn between respecting her privacy and the overwhelming need to comfort her.

The fire pops, sending up a shower of sparks, and in the sudden flare of light, I see my hands trembling.

She cries out again, louder this time. The pure terror in her voice decides for me.

I’m at her door instantly, hand on the knob, listening. The old floorboards creak under my weight as I lean closer.

Her breathing is ragged, punctuated by small, distressed sounds that make my chest ache.

“Leave me alone...” Her voice is thin and desperate.

Pushing back the rage building inside me, trying to convince my bear there’s no physical foe that he can vanquish, I turn the handle slowly, peering through the crack.

Moonlight spills across the bed, illuminating her face that’s twisted in fear. The sheets are tangled around her legs like restraints as she fights some invisible enemy. Her hair is damp with sweat, sticking to her forehead.

“Ben, please,” she calls out, and something in me breaks completely.

Entering the room, I cross to her side; the mattress dips as I sit on the edge. Her skin is clammy when I touch her shoulder, and her whole body is trembling.