Page 11 of Rose's Untamed Bear

“Good,” she said. “Because we have to go home now. Mother will be beside herself.”

She turned, expecting me to follow. And I did.

Together, we limped through the woods—her in front, unafraid, me behind, massive and wary, but more Derrick than Magnus for the first time in years. I watched her every step, memorizing her, protecting her from the shadows that still clung to the trees. And every so often, she glanced back to make sure I was still there, her cloak billowing, her hair wild, like she was leading a parade of monsters and didn’t care what the world thought of it.

Iknew he was following me, even as I picked a path through the brush with feet numb inside my boots from the cold river mud, even when he made no sound, no shuffle of leaf or clatter of branch. I felt him the way you feel a storm about to break—a raw weight swelling behind me—the sense of pressure building with every step I took away from the creek. His presence clung to me, a warmth that prickled along my nape, stubborn as a remembered hand on my shoulder. It haunted the air, electric and shivery, as if the world itself held its breath for him. I told myself I was angry, but mostly I was just… awake, in a way I never had been before.

My chest was a battlefield, my ribs as tight as a trap, every beat of my heart threatening to pull me apart from the inside out. I couldn’t forget the kiss. That impossible, wild kiss. I kept replaying it, every movement and every breath, the hesitant wayhis lips had touched mine at first, then the way he’d deepened it, hungry and real, so that my own need rushed up to meet him before I even knew I was moving. No one had ever kissed me, not once, not even a stolen peck in the hayloft or a dare at midsummer like I’d heard girls at the market laugh about. They seemed to trade kisses like currency, but all I knew was the ache and the desperate wish for something to happen, for someone to see me. Now I’d been seen. Touched. Claimed, in a way that screwed itself into the marrow of me.

I was ruined for the kisses of others, and I didn't mind it one bit, because nothing else could ever be so terrifying and so right at the same time. Even if I were to live to a hundred and never be kissed like that again, I wouldn't have traded it. Him.

Derrick.

I repeated the name in my mind, turning it over like a smooth pebble.Derrick. Derrick.Like a spell, or a promise, or a warning. Even thinking it made my breath stutter, my palms go clammy.

I’d seen him in both his skins now—man and bear—and neither was less real than the other. The memory of him, brown hair damp from the creek, body, raw and ridged with the scars of a thousand hunts, standing before me with nothing but the woods for clothing, made my throat go dry. The golden-brown eyes, the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, he was a man kiln-fired from the earth, rough and beautiful, and wild as the country itself.

Even as a man, he was built like a bear. So much taller than me, his chest so incredibly wide that when I pressed myself against him, I felt like I could get lost. His muscles were thick, ropey, hard.

Speaking of hard—my cheeks went hot at the thought, and no amount of snow could cool me—I'd never seen a man's… cock before, but I knew his was the most magnificent of them all. Gods, I hadn’t meant to look. Truly. But… it wasn’t like he could hide that thing. It was right there. Long and heavy and frightening and mesmerizing all at once. And it had done strange, traitorous things to me.

My thighs pressed together as I remembered, shame and curiosity tangling. That heat, that flutter low in my belly, the dampness in my undergarments—I had no words for it. Only that it hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt… necessary. Like my body had recognized something my mind couldn’t yet name.

Snow and I had giggled once or twice about that secret place between our legs, whispering of how odd it felt to touch, how sometimes it sparked shivers that made our knees weak. Neither of us understood it, only that it was private, forbidden, ours alone. But now—now I wondered if it was meant for something more.

And if Derrick was the one I was meant to share it with.

Anyway. My mind was running wild. As was my body.

Now, as I hurried home, he trailed behind me on four paws once more. The change had shocked me, one heartbeat he had been a man, the next a beast, as if some dark god had split him down the middle and then let the halves war for sovereignty. I remembered every detail of the transformation: how his body twisted, bones scraping beneath skin, teeth gnashing as if he could chew through the curse itself. I’d flinched at first, but then I couldn’t look away. Some part of me wanted to touch the bear’s pelt and say, I know what you are, and I’m not afraid. That same part now made my legs tremble when I walked, not from fear,but from the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could bring him back to me.

Gods and ghosts, my heart was a fool.

I stumbled over a root, caught myself, and spun around before my courage could fail.

“Are you still there?” I called, sharper than I meant. I hated being watched, and I hated sensing him close while he stayed out of sight. From the thickening trees came a low grunt, soft but unmistakable. I couldn’t see him, not in the shifting dusk, but I felt his eyes on me. The comfort of it made me shiver.

“I knew it,” I whispered, and then, because the silence felt unbearable and made my mind go all crazy, I started to chatter the way I always did when nerves or longing pressed too hard on my tongue.

“So—tell me, is there a way to break it? Your curse?” I called, loud enough for the trees to gossip to each other about me.

Nothing but another grunt, and a shivering of snow from a branch above.

I stopped, folded my arms, and glared into the woods. “Don’t grunt at me. I know you understand every word.” My voice was brittle, on the edge of laughter or tears. “You’re not the only one with secrets, you know. We all want to be more than we are.”

He didn’t answer, but I sensed him moving, circling, as if he weighed my words and found them wanting.

“Fine!” I snapped. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself. I’ll go to the village—no, the city, the library. There must be something written about Alarion the Wise, about Bluebeard, about… whatever devil did this to you.” I tossed my hair back,feigning the kind of courage my mother wore like a breastplate. “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing while you’re stuck like this. There must be a cure. I’ll find it.”

At this, the bear—Derrick—stepped from the shadows. The evening light caught the gold in his eyes, and I was struck by how much man still lived behind the beast’s gaze. He watched me with a kind of exasperated fondness, like a parent indulging a reckless child. Then, with a shake of his head, he huffed so loudly a bird exploded from a nearby bush in terror.

I couldn’t help but laugh, and the sound startled even me. “You’re impossible,” I said, smiling despite myself.

He sat down heavily, still watching, his jaw tilted up as if he might speak. We stared at each other for a long, trembling moment. I wondered what he saw in me, with my tangled hair and my cheeks raw from the wind. Did I look as changed as I felt? Could he tell that his kiss still burned on my lips, that I wanted more, even if I had no idea how to ask for it?

Night came down in blue drifts, and the woods grew colder. For a while, I walked, lost in my own head, Derrick’s presence trailing, silent as a second shadow. Memories tumbled through me, of the bear curled by our hearth, of the man who’d held me and whispered my name like a prayer. I couldn’t decide which I wanted more, and the confusion thrilled and terrified me in equal measures.

As we neared the edge of the birch wood, I glanced back. Derrick followed a few paces behind, limping only slightly. I slowed, letting him catch up, and for a moment we moved in step. The air reeked of thawing earth and the wet promise of spring. I breathed it in, bracing myself for the lie I’d have to tell when I got home: that I’d gone for a walk, that nothing had happened,that I hadn’t kissed a man who was also a bear, that I wasn’t planning to steal away and risk everything to break his curse.