Henry ran a hand through his still-damp hair, frustration evident in the gesture. “I’ve spent years building this life. Alone. Independent. It works.” He gestured around the cabin. “This works. But when I kissed you...”
“Everything changed,” Ivy finished for him.
He nodded, eyes meeting hers with startling intensity. “I felt my control slipping. My bear... wanted to claim you right there. No going back.”
A shiver ran through her. “I felt it too,” she admitted.
“It scared me,” Henry confessed, the admission clearly difficult. “Not the bond itself. But what it means. How much I’d have to change. How much I could lose if it went wrong.”
Ivy considered his words carefully. “I understand fear,” she said finally. “Everyone sees the optimistic Dr. Bright, always smiling, always certain. But inside?” She tapped her chest. “I’m scared too. Scared of failing the institute. Scared of letting down my family. Scared of trusting the wrong people.”
She took a deep breath. “And yes, scared of this bond between us. It’s overwhelming. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the silence between them. Outside, the storm seemed to be intensifying, wind howling around the cabin’s sturdy walls. The sound only emphasized the cocoon-like intimacy of their shared space.
“I’m not good at this,” Henry said.
“At what?”
“People. Relationships. Talking.” He gestured vaguely between them. “All of it.”
A small smile curved on Ivy’s lips. “I noticed.”
The simple acknowledgment, free of judgment, seemed to ease something in him. His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I’ve made peace with being alone,” he said. “But then you showed up, and suddenly being alone feels...”
“Empty,” Ivy supplied when he trailed off.
Henry nodded, his expression conveying what words failed to express. They had drawn closer still, the distance between them now measured in inches rather than feet. The firelight played across his features, softening his habitual sternness.
Ivy reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away, and placed her hand lightly on his. The simple contact sent awarenesscoursing through her, her bear stirring with recognition and desire.
“I’m not asking for a claiming bite tonight,” she said. “But I don’t think we should keep fighting this connection either.”
Henry’s hand turned beneath hers, fingers intertwining. “What are you suggesting?”
“That we stop pretending we don’t feel this,” Ivy said, tightening her grip slightly. “That we explore it instead of running from it.”
A log shifted in the fireplace, sending sparks spiraling upward. Lightning flashed, followed immediately by deafening thunder that shook the cabin.
“I can’t promise I won’t still be...” Henry gestured at himself with his free hand.
“A grumpy bear?” Ivy suggested, smiling.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
“I don’t want you to change who you are,” Ivy said. “I just want a chance to know that person better.”
Henry’s free hand moved to her face, fingers gently brushing a stray curl behind her ear. The touch left tingling awareness in its wake. His eyes searched hers, seeking something he seemed to find.
“I’d like that,” he said finally.
One moment they were separated by inches, the next his mouth was on hers, warm and insistent. Henry’s hands found her waist, fingers tightening on the flannel shirt that carried his scent. A low growl vibrated from his chest, the sound sending shivers of anticipation through Ivy’s entire body.
Chapter
Twelve
