Alex ran fast through the forest, pushing his great bearish body to its limit. His bulky muscles stretched and his massive paws hit the ground with earth-shaking thuds. Small creatures skittered out of the way of the large bear, but Alex didn't notice them. He concentrated on the tickle of the wind whipping through his thick fur, the shudder in his joints each time his powerful legs met the earth, and the utter, blissful freedom of moving fast and hard. He etched each sensation into his memory — especially the last — because nothing would be the same after this.

Of course, he would come back here to run at some point after the ceremony, but he knew in his bones it wouldn’t feel the same. Alex shook away the depressing thought — shook away all thoughts — and simply ran.

More than anything, he wanted to run for hours, but a movement in the trees caught his eye. Resentment boiled in his gut as he slowed to watch an older man enter the forest and stand perfectly still in Alex’s path.

Alex reared up on his hind legs and roared with every ounce of strength he had. Lather coated his fur, foam dripped from the tips of his fangs, and his razor sharp claws were at the ready to slice and dice anyone who stood in his way. He had no intention of doing so, but this was his last chance to vent his frustrations.

“Time to go, son,” Tier Fairchild said without so much as flinching. “The meeting is in less than an hour.”

Alex sighed — not something bears often did. Remaining on his hind legs, he pulled back his bear. His muscles cramped pleasantly as they shrank under his quickly retracting fur. The air chilled his human skin and within moments, Alex stood before his father in his human form. Even as a man, he stood an impressive six-foot-four, with bronzed muscles and shaggy brown hair no barber could tame.

"When I was a cub, you’d at least pretend to be scared,” Alex said, shaking his head ruefully.

Tier Fairchild smiled blandly and handed Alex a pile of neatly folded clothes. "When you were a cub, it was cute. If I flinched now, you might think it was time to take over as head of the clan."

Alex pulled on the bespoke grey suit pants and buttoned the crisp white Oxford, but decided to forgo the tie for now. He was in no hurry to feel any more shackled than he already did.

"I’m not in any rush there, I promise you."

"Glad to hear it," Tier Fairchild said as they strolled through the forest toward the car that was undoubtedly waiting. "You are a good inch taller than me. It’s possible you could take me down."

Alex grinned and wrapped his arm around the older man’s still-burly shoulders. His father wouldn’t give up the title of Tier of the Fairchild Clan any time soon, but it was true — Alex was an inch taller.

A comfortable silence settled between them and they didn't speak again until they were on the highway, speeding toward the city. His father spoke first, his voice gruff and thick with emotion. What that emotion was, Alex couldn’t be sure.

“Are you ready, son?”

Alex frowned at the trees rushing past his window. “It’s not like I haven’t had time to prepare, Father. Twenty years is a long time to come to terms with an arrangement I didn’t make…and certainly don’t want.”

Tier Fairchild sighed, probably at the bitterness Alex couldn’t keep out of his voice. “Knowing and doing are two very different things, Alex. Today you’ll sign the papers, and in a week…”

Alex knew very well what would happen in a week. Most of his life had been in preparation for that very day. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Don’t worry, father. I know what it means to be the son of a bear chief. I won’t embarrass you.”

“I know, son.” Tier Fairchild kept his eyes on the road and didn’t say anything more.

Alex continued to stare out the window, blind to the beautiful lush forest, only seeing his own troubles. He tried not to speak, to not give voice to his doubts and concerns, but he couldn’t hold back. The ceremony was so close, and he he still had one question he’d never dared to ask, though it had plagued him for years. It was now or never.

"It's just… I know you brokered the betrothal to finally and truly end the war between Clan Fairchild and Clan Hamilton. I get that. But can you tell me how any man could simply give away his daughter to someone he’s never met?”

Tier Fairchild’s expression didn’t change beyond a slight tightening of his jaw. "I don’t pretend to know him well, even after all the years we've spent as technical allies, awaiting the union. But I remember all too well what the wars were like — for both sides."

Alex started to break in but his father cut him off.

"Yes, yes, I know you were alive for some of it, but you were a child, protected from the worst, even if it didn't seem like it.” He shot Alex a dark glance. “You don’t have a clue, son. What you witnessed, or learned in school, or heard stories about — none of it compares to the true horrors of that war.”

A chill pebbled the skin of Alex’s arms and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He remembered seeing the outer edges of a couple of skirmishes and thinking nothing could have been worse than that. Judging by the grim expression on his father’s face, Alex had been very, very wrong.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Alex returned to the discussion at hand. “I understand, Father, but I can’t help thinking Tier Hamilton must have thought his daughter wouldn’t be able to marry without arranging it himself.”

Tier Fairchild scowled at him. “Are you suggesting something must be wrong with her?”

Alex shrugged, deeply ashamed by his selfishness, yet just as deeply worried he might be right.

His father chuckled. “She’s probably thinking the very same thing about you. I’ve never met the young lady, but I’m sure she doesn’t have horns sprouting from her forehead, Alex. Tier Hamilton and I brokered this marriage to end the war and save lives, not because we were worried our children would never find mates.”

It made sense, but Alex wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Besides,” his father continued, “It’s not such a bad match. You’re wealthy enough to keep her comfortable, and I’m sure she’ll bear you many fine cubs. Despite the generations of hate between our clans, I believe Tier Hamilton knows our family is honorable and you’d never mistreat his daughter in any way. Right?”

“Of course not!” Alex huffed at his father’s warning glance and turned back to the window. He might not be excited about his upcoming nuptials, but that didn’t mean he’d mistreat his future wife — any woman, for that matter.

His thoughts wandered — and not for the first time in his life — to what his arranged marriage would be like. He’d seen such marriages before — friends of his parents, whose unions had been arranged at birth and who'd never been allowed to meet before the ceremony. Most of them had seemed stiff to him, lacking entirely in passion, seeming to barely be friends. Like polite strangers.

Alex tried to imagine bedding a woman he had to be polite to. The very thought made his skin itch, and his bear, just under the surface, yearned to run. But he wouldn’t run, as tempting as the idea might be. He’d do his duty and fulfill his destiny.

The ceremony wasn’t for several more days. His morning run had been nice, but come sunset, he'd find a woman to join him in one last night of pure passion before he shackled himself forever to a woman he didn’t love — hell, didn’t even know. The thought cheered him a little.

In an effort to lighten the mood, Alex asked his father how his stamp collection was going and spent the rest of the ride hearing about it.