Chapter Six
Andre woke with the familiar warmth of Mary against him. Today I take her to the city, he told himself, stroking her silky hair, as he had every morning for the past three months.
Three months. He knew it was wrong for her to stay. She wanted a soulmate, someone who would stay by her side for the rest of time. And she deserved such a man. A man who put her first in everything, the way she would put him first in everything. Andre couldn't give her the love she deserved. There was too much anger in his heart.
And yet the thought of taking her to the city, watching her get on an airplane and never seeing her again… it hurt. So he held on, even though every logical, rational thought screamed at him to let go.
Mary stirred, and Andre grew still, not wanting to disturb her. Her eyes fluttered open, and her rosebud mouth, so deliciously kissable, curled into the happy, sleepy smile that it always went to she woke up in the morning. It never failed to elicit a smile in response. She rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on his chest.
"How did you sleep?" she asked.
Andre shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I had a dream."
"I love your dreams." Her eyes brightened. "What was it this time?"
His fingers ran down her spine under the blankets. It was a warmer morning than it had been, but still chilly. One of the things he loved most about waking up next to Mary was that she always pressed so tightly against him. She got cold easily, but would rather snuggle closer to him than get out of bed and dress. A curl of her hair was stuck to her cheek. He smoothed it back and kissed her forehead.
You asked for a day and a night, he thought, I have given you three months. Now you have to leave before it’s too late for both of us.
"Well? What did you dream?"
"I dreamt that I set the cabin on fire, and you were still in it," he said. If she would fear him, even a little bit, it would be easier to strip himself away from her.
Her brow puckered. "That's horrible. I'm sorry."
"Of course you would apologize for me having a dream where I killed you." Andre couldn't help but laugh. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She welcomed him eagerly, hands roaming his torso. A light moan escaped her throat, and she broke the kiss, moving her mouth to his chest. Each kiss felt like a burst of sunshine, and Andre stroked her raven hair as she made her way up to the hollow of his throat, moving her hand lower.
"I have to go take care of the animals," he said reluctantly.
She moaned again, in disappointment this time, and moved onto her back. Her lower lip pushed out into a delicious pout, and he had to take it between his teeth and suck gently as he rolled over her. Her green eyes glinted mischievously as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
"Now you can't get away," she said. "You're my prisoner. You must do as I say."
"Yes, mistress." Andre tasted the sweet skin on her neck. "Except I have to go take care of the animals."
He reluctantly pulled himself from her embrace. As he lifted the blankets, she shivered violently and yanked them back around her, wrapping herself in the blankets until only her nose poked out. The pile shook like a shorn lamb.
"I'll keep the bed warm for you," she said, her voice muffled by the blankets.
Andre laughed, heart lightening. Perhaps she should stay for a few more weeks until he was certain the snow would be over. He didn't want her to be stranded in an airport for hours on end or have it canceled altogether, after all. That would hardly be fair.
The longer she stays, the more it will hurt when she leaves, he told himself, for you and her both.
But then, maybe she didn't have to leave.
The goat was already standing by the milking post when he entered. Its udder bulged beneath it, and it turned a baleful, reproaching look on him. The sheep all rushed to the edge of their pen, looking for their feed. The little lamb that had been born three months ago had grown quickly and was a fine, strong young ram. Andre had put him and his mother with the others again just the day previous.
After he had carried out his chores, he checked his surveillance. The instant he saw the screens, his heart froze. The cameras closest to his cabin had been tripped. Wolves. Their black coats distinctive against the white snow, they slithered over the land like shadows. One, a big one with green eyes and a skiff of white on his muzzle, looked directly at the camera.
The feed cut out. Blood roared in Andre's ears. Locke. He'd found out about the Bear. Now the Wolves were on their way.
And if they found Mary in his bed? Or wearing his clothes? Panic stabbed into his heart. No. He wouldn't let it happen! They already treated her terribly, what might they do if they learned that she had been sleeping with a Bear?
His clothes tore along the seams, shredding off his body as he let his Bear come forth. Without sparing a second thought, he charged out of the barn and into the forest.
She goes away today, a desperate voice said in his head. As soon as these Wolves are gone, she goes away.
***
Mary drifted back to sleep after Andre left. He wasn't in the house, but there was some fresh snow on the trees outside, so she thought he must have gone to plow the road. Humming, she quickly tidied the house.
Every night she watched him fall asleep. When he was sleeping, he looked so peaceful. The tenseness in his face faded away, and his brown hair spread around him like a halo. She loved looking at him. If she didn't have to sleep herself, she would watch him all night, memorizing every feature; his strong jaw, heavy brows, straight nose. She wanted to remember everything about him.
Never before had she been so happy, but a cloud hung over her. A fear that this would be the day when he told her it was time to leave. No more frolicking together in the snow, Wolf and Bear in harmony, chasing one another, running together. He had even taken her hunting on the full moon, though they hadn't caught anything.
When he came back, she was going to do it. Her nerves trembled just thinking about it, but she was going to tell him that she loved him.
Some hours later, she saw him coming out of the forest, his Bear glossy and beautiful in the white snow. What had he been doing? He would often disappear like this, and he never really answered her when she asked.
He headed for the barn first, so Mary put on some bacon for lunch and set the table.
A bruise stretched from his jaw to ear when he came in. Mary stifled a gasp, then screamed. Blood ran down his chest from three deep gouges just below his collarbone. His shirt was ripped to shreds, his jeans in a condition just as bad.
Andre stumbled to the table and collapsed into a chair. Mary stood frozen, hands pressed to her mouth, heart slamming against her ribs. She couldn't move. How could Andre, the Bear, the strong, powerful man she had come to know, end up in such a state?
"Water," he mumbled.
"Water," she repeated, breaking from the spell.
Her hands shook, but she rushed to get a glass and filled it at the tap pausing only to take the bacon off the burner. Andre gulped the water down, wincing when she peeled his shirt back from his skin. There were more gouges on his shoulders, long claw marks down his back, and blood dripped onto the floor.
The wounds had to be cleaned and dressed. She knew that much from patching up her brothers when they got into brawls. "Where do you keep bandages?"
"Cupboard in the bathroom."
Mary put a pot of water on to boil and fetched the bandages. "Andre?"
He slumped against the table and shook his head. Mary rushed to his side, putting a hand on his forehead. He didn't feel overly warm, but his temperature was elevated. Probably the adrenaline was wearing off.
"Andre, you need to take off your shirt and lay on the floor."
He straightened. "I'm okay. It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?" Mary shook her head. "You're bleeding all over the floor. You are not okay. Now do as I say. What happened?"
Andre grunted as he slid from the chair. Mary ran for a pillow and plumped it under his head before unbuttoning his shirt, checking for bruises on his torso that would indicate internal bruising. Fortunately, it didn't seem like that was the case. He still hadn't answered her by the time the water boiled.
"What happened?" she repeated, wetting a cloth and dabbing at the wound bleeding most heavily, one on his shoulder.
"It was a bear," he said. "Not a shifter. Just a regular old bear. Damn grizzly thought I was encroaching on its territory. But I'm fine. I'm fine. There is nothing to worry about. There is nothing to worry about at all."