Page 12 of Rose's Untamed Bear
But before I could sink into dread, a wild idea took hold.
I stopped, spun, and faced him. “If I’m going to be your champion, you owe me more than grunts,” I said, hands on my hips. “You can write, can’t you? In the dirt, in the snow. Use your claws for something besides scaring the chickens.”
He stared at me with something almost like amusement, then shuffled forward on his haunches and drew a long line in the snow with his forepaw. With a few careful swipes, he spelled ROSE in blocky, uneven letters.
My heart lurched. I crouched beside the marks, reached out to touch the R, then looked up at him. “If you can write my name, you can write yours. Go on.”
He hesitated, then scrawled D-E-R-R-I-K, and then, as if correcting himself, pawed off the K and replaced it with a C, making it DERRIC. I laughed out loud, delighted, and for a moment the woods felt smaller, more intimate, as if we were in our own secret world.
“You’re a terrible speller,” I teased.
He snorted, but jabbed a claw at my name again and then at his, as if to say, See? This is us.
The warmth bubbled up in me, and before I could stop myself, I pressed my hand over the letters, smearing them together. The bear huffed softly, and I swear he smiled, at least with his eyes.
“Fine,” I said, softer now. “We’re in this together.”
We walked the rest of the way home in companionable quiet. The moon was rising, sharp and white, and our twin shadows stretched long across the snow. At the edge of the clearing, Derrick paused, then darted ahead, circling the cottage once before settling beneath the kitchen window, just outside the spill of lamplight. I watched him for a moment, then ducked inside with a hammering heart, sure the truth of what happened had to be written all over my face.
The warmth of the hearth hit me first, then the sound of my sister’s voice and the soft scrape of my mother’s knife as she chopped vegetables for supper. So normal, so safe, so heartbreakingly ordinary.
Snow looked up from her embroidery, her eyes flicking from my face to the open door. "Why is he just standing there? Come in, you're letting the cold in."
My mother turned and looked from Bear to me and back from me to him. Her head tilted, as if she sensed something had shifted. Something irreversible.
The days were getting warmer and harder. Harder because I still had to leave the house and chase Grimbalt down, and because now I had to fear too that Rose would do something reckless. Like go to the city. I was torn between staying and watching her, or chasing devils.
They were also getting better, though. Because now and then, the sun would come out. Whenever a ray slithered its way inside, Rose and I looked at each other and rushed out. I was sure our odd behavior caught Mother's and Snow's curiosity, but neither said anything.
Rose and I would rush as far from the cottage as we could, me staying in the shadows, her grabbing a pair of leather breeches she had sewn for me and kept hidden on the porch. We’d run until we found a secluded spot with enough sun coming throughfor me to change into Derrick. The more often I transformed, the faster it went, but it was never easy.
"I hate having to watch you go through this pain," Rose said one day, holding out the pants.
I took them, put them on, while promising her, "I don't mind it. I'd take any pain if it means I get to kiss you, hold you, talk to you."
As soon as I was somewhat dressed, she turned around and stepped in front of me. She put both of her palms on each side of my head, her crystal eyes clear with her feelings for me. "It's a steep price."
"Not to me," I rasped, already lost in her nearness, unable to resist pulling her closer, resting my chin on top of her head. Just feeling her in my arms was worth more torture than I had to go through. I would walk over lava for her. I would take hot fire arrows if it meant keeping her. "I love you."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, words that had lingered on my tongue all winter, in every stolen hour we shared. They pressed at me like steam against a sealed lid, until at last, I couldn’t contain them any longer, and they spilled free, unstoppable.
She stilled in my arms. Her tiny hands pressed against my chest until I loosened my hold, just enough for her to tilt her face up to mine. Her pupils had widened so far, they swallowed nearly all the blue, leaving only a bright, crystal halo around the edges. Her lips parted, trembling, then curved upward.
“You… love me?”
I nodded and pushed the words through my throat that felt raw from emotion. “I do. With all my heart, with my soul, with every breath and every beat of my heart. No matter if I’m man or beast, I love you, Rose Red. From now until the end of the world.”
“Oh, Derrick.” Her smile bloomed, brighter than the firelight, brighter than the thawing sun. I’d seen her smile before—mischievous, stubborn, defiant—but this one was radiant. It was brilliant. It was blinding. “I love you too.”
The words struck through me like a sword, sharp and dazzling. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. She loved me. She lovedme. Not the bear, not the protector she teased, not the cursed creature who haunted her hearth—me. Derrick.
It was too much. Too much and not nearly enough. I had braced my whole life for claws, for curses, for grief carved into stone, and instead, she gave me this—this impossible gift.
My chest ached as if my ribs couldn’t contain it. It was joy so fierce it hurt, joy I’d never dared to hope for, joy I knew I didn’t deserve. And yet she offered it freely, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I bent my head, pressing my brow to hers, clinging to her as though she were the only solid thing left in a world built of snow and shadows. “You’ve given me a miracle,” I whispered. My voice shook, but I didn’t care. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting it. Protecting you.”
She didn’t answer in words. She didn’t have to. Her fingers slid up to lace through mine, and her mouth found mine again, tender and sure, sealing her promise with the only truth that mattered.