His clipped voice softened, almost taking on the cadence of Hawk’s as he said, “We smell right together.”
I felt, rather than heard, Hawk’s and Leif’s silent agreement. Their shared certainty washed over me, and I wondered if I’d ever get used to feeling other people’s emotions as if they were my own.
But Koda’s shields remained up. We’d had so many misunderstandings, so much stubborn avoidance. I needed to hear him say it—to make his intentions clear.
“I, too, would like to discuss the possibility of receiving your bite,” he said before I could finish the thought. “When you wake up, I believe our next order of business should be the future of our maul.”
Our maul.
For the first time in years, I let myself believe.
“Okay,” I said again, my heart full as I drifted into the most peaceful sleep I could ever remember.…
…then I woke up in a cold, empty nest.
No hazelnuts. But also no maple fudge. Or cognac.
They were gone! All three of my mates were gone.
The realization hit me like a slap as I sat up in the empty den.
“Hawk?” My voice echoed faintly off the stone walls.“Leif? Koda?”
No answer.
Female bears weren’t supposed to leave their nest, but I could feel with biological certainty that my estrus was over.
Pushing the blankets aside, my bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor as I finally left my sacred space to search the den.
But they weren’t here.
I knew that for certain, even before I poked my head around the alcoved wall and went up the winding interior stairs to open the doors of bedrooms that had zero furniture in them.
My bear couldn’t feel them. Anywhere.
All three of the guys who’d promised to be here when I woke up had gone out of range of my bond with Hawk.
They were gone. Gone.
Which meant they’d abandoned me as soon as my estrus was done. Exactly like I said they would.
21/
the dream was over
holly
The dream was over.
After waiting around in the den for hours, I checked at the bar and RCMP station in the hopes I’d gotten it wrong. But the Bear Mountain detachment was dark with a “Closed” sign hung in the window, and the copper-haired bartender told me he hadn’t seen any of the males who’d promised to be there when I woke up. Over six hours ago.
Eventually, I gave up and drove back to Vancouver. The sun would set in a few hours, and no offense to my little sister, but I knew better than to drive on mountain roads at night.
Plus, I had a real life to get back to: a couple of expectant mothers, a phone to replace, an alimony check to write and send to Corey—that was ironically due in two days, on February 14th.Happy Valentine’s Day.
A just-above freezing apartment to rewarm…
I sighed when I walked into my frigid studio. Before I left, I’d turned the thermostat to vacation mode, thinking I’d be back in a couple of days at most. Not a week. My breath visible, I turned the thermostat back up, then made the extremely short trip from the door to the quilted armchair I’d opted for since the studio I’d barely been able to afford after my divorce wasn’t big enough to fit a couch.
