Page 22 of Rose's Untamed Bear

He took a step, chest rising and falling, and his voice broke, rough but urgent. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

The sight of him, so real, so solid, stripped the air from my lungs. I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. A cry tore from me, half relief, half disbelief. “Derrick!”

I flung myself at him, my arms moved around his neck, and I clung to him as though the world itself might try to steal him away again. He caught me instantly, his strong arms crushed me close, his chest heaved against mine. I could feel the rapid thud of his heart through the thin linen, steady and alive. Alive!

“Rose,” he breathed into my hair, and his voice broke with something raw and unguarded. “My Rose.”

“You’re you,” I whispered, searching his face, my trembling hands splayed against his chest.

He laughed, breathless and bright, his golden eyes crinkled with relief. “I’m me.”

But then he sobered. His hands came up, warm and steady, cradling my face as though I might vanish if he let go. His thumb traced the tears from my cheek. “Will you ever forgive me?”

I laughed through the sob that wanted to break free. “Always, my heart.” I pressed into his palm, desperate to anchor myself to him. And I did. I had always understood why he had donewhat he did, and there was no question in my mind that I would forgive him almost anything. Either way, it was over now, he… that’s when I realized, he wasn’t bare-skinned as he’d been when the sun freed him before. The curse had changed more than his shape.

He was dressed now, as though the forest itself had clothed him in victory. He looked every inch the man he was meant to be. Not beast. Not cursed. Mine.

“But… what happened? Is the curse broken? How did killing Grimbalt end it?”

His gaze darkened, heavy with a truth he could barely speak. “Because Grimbalt was never just a troll. He was Alarion. The wizard who cursed me.”

I froze. My hands went slack on his chest. “Alarion…”

Slowly, I turned my head.

The broken body lay crumpled where Derrick had crushed him; the filthy rags and stunted limbs were already unraveling. Before my eyes, the twisted form stretched and smoothed, the wiry beard receded, the gnarled hands straightened into long, elegant fingers. What remained was a man, tall, broad-shouldered, terribly handsome even in death. His hair fell like pale gold silk across the stones. His mouth was soft, almost princely.

And his eyes—oh God.

They were open, staring sightless into the gray sky. Crystal blue, clear as spring ice. Broken. Dead.

But I knew them.

The same blue as Snow’s.

The same blue as mine.

My heart slammed hard enough to hurt. “Oh my God…” My voice cracked, thin and strangled. “The eyes. They’re… they’re the same.”

I swayed in Derrick’s arms, every part of me was splitting apart, the world tilted beneath my feet as the truth clawed its way back in. Alarion. The wizard. The monster.

My father.

How could Derrick love me if he knew it was my father who cursed him and his family?

"Derrick," I choked out.

Derrick's brows knitted in confusion. "His eyes."

He looked from Alarion to me. "How can that be?"

"Oh, Derrick," I gathered all my courage, even though my heart felt like it was breaking again; this time, I knew it would be forever. Nothing would ever mend it after Derrick knew the truth and left me. There would be no hope. And how could he not? I was the daughter of a monster. A monster who had been about to kill me. Had he known who I was? Did it matter?

“Rose, Rose…” His arms tightened around me, alarmed, anchoring me upright when my knees threatened to buckle. His voice was hoarse with fear. “What’s wrong? My love. Talk to me.”

Tears blurred my vision. “He’s my father.” The words ripped from me like a confession, raw and shaking. “Alarion. The wizard who cursed you. The monster you killed. His blood runs in me. Don’t you see? I’m tainted. I should have known—I should have felt it. How can you love me now?”

Derrick flinched, flinched as if I’d lashed him with a whip. For a wild second, I thought he would shove me away, or worse, that his face would go blank with disgust, and I’d see the same revulsion in him that I felt for myself. I braced for it. I was ready for it. I deserved it, I thought. But all his expression did was break open, exposing something even worse, a devastation like a storm-torn field. And then, in a single heartbeat, he pulled me closer. Tighter.