Page 30 of Bear's Rejected Love

“Please come to Sam and Lily’s with the girls. I’m taking them there. Roan lost control and shifted and went into the woods. I have to go after him.”

“Why? What—”

“The girls will explain everything.” She didn’t want to lose any time.

“I can take them.” Corbin wasn’t the same kid who had run wild in the city. He was a young man now, pulling it together because she needed him. He took her hand and squeezed it firmly. “Mom. I’ll take them.”

“Are you sure?” She cupped his face.

To her, he was always going to be her baby, even now that he was taller than she was. Even now he was taking charge fearlessly. Even with a burning backdrop bright behind them, the night glowing orange, shouts and cries and action all around them. Thank the stars the storm was over, and there was no wind to spread and carry the fire.

“I’m sure. Find my dad. He needs you,” Corbin said solemnly and then moved off with the girls. They walked quickly down the road, their shadows cast like a puppet show against the glowing night.

It was nearly impossible for her to take that first step towards the woods. It meant letting Corbin go. The girls. The baby. She wanted to stay with them, protect them, but her son had acted like a grown man. He’d get them all to Sam’s. He’d said he was sure, and she’d seen that he was. Still. Her instincts went deep and strong.

When she gave herself over to the bear, her other instincts took over. She knew that she’d be able to find Roan, but what she didn’t know was if she could convince him to return.

Chapter 12

Roan

It finally happened. Everything he’d feared since he left the lab. That what those monsters put in him, what they’d reduced him to—a living experiment—would get the upper hand when it came to control and one of his animals would hurt someone. He didn’t think it had to be intentional for it to happen. That was his greatest fear. His greatest reason to leave. He knew he should, and yet, he never had.

He’d put the girls at risk.

He’d put a baby at risk.

He’d put all of Greenacre at risk.

Why his friends, particularly the woman who had gone through her share of captivity and unpleasant experiences, thought that he’d be a good candidate to be around anyone, let alone raise and influence three other lives, he didn’t know.

She was wrong.

They’d all been wrong.

The best thing he could do was leave.

He’d double back around, forcing the damn wolf to listen to him for once. The cabin was on fire, but literally right after it started, he’d seen the girls with Honor in their arms, rushing through the window, getting clear. He knew they were okay. Everything in their cabin would be lost, and probably was already, but they’d escaped without injury or harm. He could tell by the way they stood in the road that they hadn’t been touched by the fire. Hadn’t been burned. They’d escaped before the cabin went up.

No thanks to him. Their survival instinct was honed sharper than most people’s.

They were fine. This time.

There couldn’t and wouldn’t be a next time.

Silver would take the girls. Anyone in the clan would. They’d be loved. They’d be fine. Honor would be raised as one of their own, of course. They’d be safe and they’d be loved by people who wouldn’t put them in danger.

Something in his chest ached at the thought, but he forced himself to keep walking. He was naked, but he’d figure that out later. He’d shift into one animal or the other, maybe make the damn owl useful, and fly over the borders of Greenacre when he got there. He could always find a cabin somewhere. It was summer. People put clothes out on the line. He’d find something that worked.

Something else in his chest hurt in a far different way when he thought about Tabitha and Corbin. He wasn’t going to get to be a dad to anyone. Not to the girls, not to Honor, not to his own son. It wasn’t like he was ever going to get a second chance with Tabitha anyway, so it was silly to bemoan the loss of that, but he wasn’t exactly listening to reason.

He really wasn’t listening to anything. He was just putting one foot in front of the other because that’s what he needed to do and to keep doing. It’s what he should have done three years ago, the moment he was freed from the lab. He should have gotten himself lost and left zero trace.

He’d fought against his own self-destructive tendencies for years. He’d tried to keep it from imploding in the faces of everyone who was so hopeful for him. He’d always known better, but he’d tried to listen. Tried to be present. Even when he was serving up penance on himself for abandoning his own clan, for his parents, he’d eventually broken the few pieces of the world he’d put back together. It made sense, since he himself was broken and basically doing nothing more than going through the motions of living.

The more pathetic thing wasn’t that he’d tried. It was that he hadn’t had the strength to do the right thing from the start.

Tabitha’s face invaded his head again, the image so sharp and real that he could almost smell her. Violets and the earth, a little bit of smoke from the fire clinging to her hair.

---