I took another breath, choosing each word like it might determine my survival. Because it did. “My people have rare, unbreakable bonds we recognize when we finally meet the right person.”
The curious gleam in her eyes hadn’t been replaced by disbelief yet, so I continued, “You’re my fated mate. The one I was born for.”
Rowan’s lips parted, and her brows drew together as she tried to process everything I’d just told her. “I don’t understand. That sounds like something out of a fairy tale. Or a line a guy would say in one of my reality shows.”
My polar gave an irritated huff in my head, demanding I show her the truth so she’d stop doubting me and start seeing who she really was to us.
I steadied my breathing, keeping my voice low. “This is going to sound like fiction, but it’s real. I swear.”
Her pulse fluttered beneath the delicate skin of her throat. “What is?”
There was no going back now.
I lifted one hand between us, letting the shift come only halfway. Just enough for Rowan to see the truth. My claws pushed out first with a muted crack, long and sharp where human nails had been seconds before. A deep ache rippled through my jaw as my canines lengthened. The world sharpened as my eyes flashed gold, the bear pushing forward, hungry to show her everything.
A low growl vibrated from my chest, impossible to hold back.
Rowan flinched, but she didn’t pull away. She surprised me by leaning in, her gaze locked on my hand as though she was seeing magic come to life in front of her. With a slow, trembling inhale, she reached out and brushed her fingertips against my altered knuckles.
The shift snapped back so fast it felt like my skin ignited. I was back to being fully human again. Her gentle touch sent my bear to his knees in gratitude as devotion and need crashed through me.
Rowan’s eyes went even wider. “Did I really see that? What are you?”
I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay steady even as my heart hammered in my chest. “I’m a polar bear shifter.”
Silence spread between us, filled with something new and fragile. But she didn’t run.
My bear pressed against my ribs, awed that she was still here. I had to remind him that we still needed to go at her pace.
Rowan didn’t speak for several heartbeats. The fire crackled softly next to us, and snow continued to fall outside.
Then she whispered, “A polar bear shifter.”
Her voice held an edge of wonder.
“Yes.”
Her gaze lifted to mine, steady despite the tremor in her hands. “When you shift, is your fur actually white? Like a real polar bear?”
I nodded once. “Yeah, white as snow.”
She blinked, absorbing that. “And how big are you?”
I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to tell her, but humans tended to underestimate just how massive a polar could be. “Around a thousand pounds, and I’m just over nine feet tall standing.”
“Wow,” she breathed.
For the first time since revealing the truth, some of the pressure in my chest eased. My little mate seemed fascinated by what I was sharing with her, and the tightness in my chest finally loosened.
Her voice softened even more. “Are you still you when you shift? Or is it like something else takes over?”
It was a valid question. And one that mattered more than she knew.
“I’m always me. My bear has always been a part of me. Loud, stubborn, and protective.”
She nodded slowly, a flush creeping up her neck. “So when you said you wanted me too much, was it because of him?”
“He doesn’t make it any easier, that’s for damn sure,” I rasped. “Both of us want you. More than anything.”
