“Women!” Logan said, spitting the word out like a curse.

He forgot how frustrating they could be.

And how beautiful they could be too. He shook his head, trying to get the image of Bella’s beautiful face out of his mind.

He marched out of his log house and ripped his ax out of the chopping block, squeezing it until his knuckles burned a hot white. She was infuriating.

He was only trying to help her and this was how she repaid him? Saying that he was going to kill her? Calling herself a prisoner?

Didn’t she realize that he only wanted what was best for her? She had hit her head on a rock and had a grade three concussion. Logan had examined her while she was knocked out and he could tell, her concussion was severe.

It wasn’t safe for her to be moving around, and especially not safe for her to be living by herself in the wilderness.

He grabbed a thick log and slammed it onto the chopping block. Of course she thinks you’re a monster. You are a monster.

With a grunt he brought the ax down on the log, easily breaking it in half.

You shouldn’t be around her. You should let her go.

But he couldn’t. Even though he had vowed to spend the rest of his days in solitude, he couldn’t just let her go. She could die.

And Logan had been responsible for enough death.

He placed another log on the chopping block and gritted his teeth as he brought the ax down on it. Chopping wood always calmed his bear when the beast got agitated, but for some reason, his bear was as calm as could be.

It was strange. His bear wasn’t trying to claw his way out of his skin to get to the girl. He wasn’t bloodthirsty and out of control like he had been the last time that Logan was around humans. It was almost as if his bear had a thing for the girl.

And why not? She was definitely beautiful.

Long brown hair that fell down on her shoulders in breathtaking waves, sparkling amber eyes as bright as the leaves in fall, a curvy body that got his heart racing, and a nice round ass that took the words out of his mouth.

He had been watching her for over a week, hanging around the pond just to catch a glimpse of her incredible beauty. Logan had spent the days pacing in excitement to see her and then went to bed, thinking of her all night. She was the first person to speak to him in years, and it made him realize how truly lonely he really was.

It almost made him want to…go back.

“You can’t go back,” he growled, slamming the ax down on the log. You know what will happen if you do.

“You can’t go back where?” she asked, startling him.

He turned around with a gasp. She had him on such a razor’s edge that he didn’t even notice her sneaking up behind him.

“You should be resting in bed,” he said, quickly turning away so that she wouldn’t have to see his hideous scars.

“I’m not tired.”

He grunted as he yanked the ax out of the chopping block. She wasn’t tired! She had a head injury and needed to rest. She was infuriating. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You’re a bear shifter,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

Logan sighed, desperately wanting to turn around to see her gorgeous face. But doing that would mean having to see the horror in her eyes again as she looked at his scars. And the pain of seeing that wasn’t worth anything.

“That was you by the water every day,” she said, not letting it go. “Why did you run when I tried to come over?”

He cringed. “It wasn’t safe.”

“Why?”

Logan turned halfway, careful to keep his scars hidden from her view. She was standing there with her arms crossed, a demanding look on her face. “Why was it unsafe?” she repeated.

Logan sighed. “Why were you coming near me?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Because that’s really annoying. I was trying to give you a hug. You looked like you needed one.”

Logan turned away, his large shoulders dropping. “You shouldn’t hug monsters.”

He grabbed another log and continued chopping, slicing three thick logs in half before she spoke again.

“I like your bear better than you.”

His mouth dropped open, his heart slowing in his chest. She liked his bear better? The bloodthirsty murderer?

Logan’s bear was the monster. The real beast.

He was the one who slaughtered all of those people, who forced him to live out here in the woods. He was the evil one, the true killer.

And she liked him better…

He sighed as the ax slipped through his fingers, falling to the ground with a thud. He had been away too long, alone for too many years.

His bear was the good one.

I’m the beast now.

* * *

Bella laid on the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. Her headache was finally starting to fade but she knew that seeing Logan one more time would have it racing back.

He was so aggravating the way he thought that he could just boss her around and give her orders. He was crazy if he thought that she was a pushover or one of those pathetic girls who just bowed their heads and let men take the lead.

Rules or no rules, she would have stormed out of there by then if her head wasn’t pounding so much and if she could walk ten steps without black dots flooding her vision.

Her stomach started rumbling as the delicious smell of something came wafting in from the kitchen. She was starving and that smell was getting her mouth watering. After two weeks of eating canned beans and stale cookies, a home cooked meal would be pure heaven.

“Bella,” Logan grunted from the other room. “You will join me for dinner now.”

She rolled her eyes as she slowly stood up, wishing that she wasn’t so hungry so that she could tell him where to shove his dinner.

“Here we go,” she whispered, holding onto the rough log wall until the room stopped spinning. Man, I really cracked my head. Luckily, I have a hard one.

When the world settled she continued out the door, giving the creepy spare room a quick glance. It was locked up tight and the more she looked at it, the less she wanted to know what was inside. I’m just going to hope that it’s where he stashes his porn collection. Logan lived alone in the woods. He had to have a couple of skin mags hidden here somewhere.

“Bella!” he barked from the kitchen.

“What?” she snapped back, the annoyance thick in her voice as she walked into the kitchen. “I hit my head, okay. Every time you holler like that it feels like there are knives plunging into my brain. So can you please stop?”

He lowered his head and sighed. “You’re right,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. “I’ll do better.”

“Thank you,” she said, sitting down at the table. The sun was setting and the kitchen was already dark. The house didn’t seem to have any electricity but there were candles everywhere, though none of them were lit.

Bella watched him curiously as he moved around the dark kitchen with the hood still over his head, hiding his face.

“It smells good,” she said, picking at her fingernails like she always did when she was nervous.

“Rabbit stew,” he answered, turning from the stove with his head hanging low. He slammed the clay bowl down in front of her, making her jump. “Sorry,” he whispered as he sat down on the overturned box across from her, keeping his face hidden.

“Thank you,” she said, watching him as she took the spoon in her hand. “You don’t have to wear the hood.”

His body froze for a few seconds and then his shoulders dropped as a sigh escaped from his lips. “It’s better this way.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, slowly getting up. She walked over to him and gently took hold of the hood and peeled it back, revealing his face. “It’s better this way.”

His sad brown eyes locked on hers for a moment before he dropped them down to the stew. She waited for him to look up at her again but he didn’t.

“I’m not around people a lot,” he said when she sat back down. “I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “No shit.”

His eyes darted up to hers and the faint whisper of a smile curled up on his lips. That’s a start.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, taking a bite of the stew. “Oh man,” she said, shoveling in another two bites. “This is freaking incredible.”

He smiled again, wider this time.

She was making progress.

“Why do you live out here?” she asked, looking around the cute little kitchen. It was bare bones but it was charming and she could tell by the carvings of birds on the shelves and the vase of fresh flowers by the window, that he took good care of his home.

He took a deep breath as he contemplated his answer. “I can’t live anywhere else.”

“Because of the scars?” she said, keeping her voice low and steady. “That shouldn’t be a-”

“No!” he shouted, ripping his bowl off of the table as he sprang out of his seat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! What I’m capable of!”

Bella’s eyes fell to the table as her body froze to the chair. The only thing of hers that was moving was her heart, which was pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.

His shoulders and face dropped when he saw her shaking. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his bowl onto the counter. “It’s, it’s been so long.”

Bella found her voice but it was only as strong as a mouse. “I think I’m going to leave now.”

He shook his head. “You can’t. It’s too dark. You’re not well.”

She was going to get even more ‘not well’ if she stayed here. Bella gulped as she looked out the window. The full moon was already coming out in the sky and she had no idea where she was. It would be treacherous going out into the wilderness in the middle of the night, lost and with her head pounding. As scary as it was, it was safer to stay the night here and take her chances with the scary beast.

Bella looked down at the spoon shaking in her hand. I should never have come out here. What was I thinking?

“You’re afraid of me,” he said, looking at her with those sad brown eyes. “Aren’t you?”

She swallowed hard and then nodded her head. “I am,” she said in a shaky voice. “But it’s not because of the scars or your bear. It’s because of you.”

He ran his hand through his messy brown hair, grabbed a fistful and squeezed as he cringed. “You can have my house to yourself tonight. I won’t bother you. You have my word.”

“Wait,” she said, as he marched to the door. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“Where I belong,” he said, ripping the door open. “In the wild.”