With a smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room, she concluded, “Welcome to the Fate Mountain Nature Center. Mayit inspire you to become not just observers of nature, but guardians of all it represents.”
“And now,” Ivy continued, gesturing toward him, “Henry Kincaid from the Forest Service would like to say a few words.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Henry felt dozens of eyes turn toward him, the weight of their attention making his skin prickle. Eight weeks ago, he would have muttered an excuse and disappeared into the forest. Instead, he found himself walking toward the podium, each step deliberate, despite the churning in his stomach.
The microphone loomed before him. He gripped the edges of the wooden podium, his knuckles whitening slightly. The crowd waited, their collective breath held. He felt Ivy’s quiet confidence flowing into him like a mountain stream—steady, clear, and revitalizing.
“The nature center,” Henry began, his deep voice resonating across the gathering, “isn’t just about education. It’s about protection.” He paused, scanning the faces before him. “Starting tomorrow, Forest Service patrols will coordinate directly with center staff to monitor wildlife movement patterns.”
A child in the front row raised her hand, and to everyone’s surprise, Henry nodded toward her.
“Do bears really sleep all winter?” she asked, her voice small but curious.
Henry’s lips twitched into a small smile. “They hibernate, but they don’t sleep deeply like humans. They’re still aware of their surroundings, protecting what matters to them even in their stillness.”
He pointed toward the large topographical map displayed behind the audience. “These wildlife corridors,” he continued, tracing the green pathways with his finger, “are like highways for animals. When we protect them, we protect generations of life that came before us and will come after.”
His voice grew stronger, infused with a passion that surprised even him. “Every forest trail has a story to tell, if you know how to listen. This center will teach you that language—how to read tracks in mud, how to spot signs of life in seemingly empty spaces, how to move through wilderness without destroying it.”
“This isn’t just about pretty views,” he said. “It’s about vigilance. About recognizing that some threats to our mountain come wearing business suits instead of carrying chainsaws. Everyone who walks through these doors becomes a guardian of these forests.”
Henry straightened to his full height, shoulders squaring. “The Forest Service stands with the Bright Institute in this mission. Because what happened here…” his gaze swept across the faces of those who had helped repair the vandalism, “…should never happen again. Not here. Not anywhere.” He stepped back from the podium, a slight flush creeping up his neck at the unexpected applause that followed.
“Thank you, Henry,” Ivy said into the microphone, her voice slightly husky with emotion. “For reminding us why this work matters.” Ivy concluded the ceremony, her pride in him radiating through their bond like sunlight through forest canopy.
As the formal presentation ended and the celebration resumed, Henry found himself observing the transformed space with new eyes. Children pressed eager faces against exhibits. Maya Wilsonled her first tour group. His own relatives mingled naturally with Ivy’s family.
“I never thought I’d care about anything this much,” Henry admitted, his arm settling around Ivy’s shoulders.
She leaned into him, fitting against his side like she’d always belonged there. “And now?”
“Now I see that protecting the mountain means protecting its people too.”
He pulled her closer, this remarkable woman who’d shattered his careful isolation and rebuilt him into someone stronger. Some things were worth coming out of the forest for.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Firelightfrom the hearth in Henry’s cabin danced across his features, illuminating the sharp angles of his face. “You survived giving your speech at the grand opening,” she teased gently, unable to resist running her fingers along his muscular thigh.
His answering grunt held amusement rather than irritation. “Barely.”
So much had changed since their first stormy night here. Ivy traced the rim of her tea mug, ceramic warm against her fingertips. “I keep thinking about how far we’ve come,” she began. “From you growling at my project to protecting it with everything you had.”
Henry’s large hand found hers, calloused fingers intertwining with her smaller ones. The simple touch sent electricity racing up her arm. His thumb brushed across her knuckles in a gentle caress that made her breath catch.
“Ivy.” Her name emerged as a growl from deep in his chest, the sound reverberating through her bones. His eyes had darkenedto molten gold as he turned to face her fully. “I need… I think it’s time.”
“Yes,” she whispered, abandoning her mug on the side table with trembling fingers. “God, I need it too.”
The tension between them finally snapped. She found herself in his lap without conscious thought, straddling his powerful thighs as their mouths crashed together in desperate hunger. His hands splayed across her back, pulling her tight against his chest until she could feel his hammering heartbeat matching her own.
“Bedroom,” he growled against her lips, already standing. She locked her legs around his waist, marveling at his strength as he carried her like she weighed nothing.
Each step toward the bedroom felt like destiny. This was the moment they would claim each other forever. Her bear pushed insistently against her skin, eager to mark and be marked by her mate.
In the bedroom, moonlight spilled through windows to paint silver patterns across the quilt. Henry lowered her onto the bed, then stepped back to pull his shirt over his head. Ivy’s mouth watered at the sight of his bare chest.
