Page 100 of Trusting Her Bear

It is a gruesome sight. Bodies are thrown together, and the dragons light the fire. They form a circle around the dead. The stench will stick in my nose for days. Bishop and Laken control the fire with their breath.

“You don’t have to watch this,” I say.

“Yes, I do.” Micah turns back for Rachel. “Don’t,” Quinn says. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Micah frowns.

“Quinn,” I whisper.

“I need to,” he says, pulling away. He quickly pulls on the pants.

I scramble to my feet to walk beside him. I hold back the sob as I watch him tenderly pick up his mom and carry her to the fire.

“Quinn,” Bash says, stepping forward, his typically cold expression replaced with sympathy and concern. Marie is at his side with tears on her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, vampire,” Quinn assures him. He gently places Rachel at the edge of the fire. He presses his palm to her heart. “I hope you find peace.” My vision blurs. “I will remember you as you were when I was twelve, and I would help you get the ingredients for a meal. You would ruffle my hair every time you passed behind me. I would smile at you. I felt so safe and loved by your soft touch. You loved us desperately. That was something you can’t fake. I felt it. I saw it. I will close my eyes once in a while and remember the music of your laugh.” He stands and looks down at her as the flames catch.

“That’s what I will remember,” he says. “Do you believe me?” I wipe my face as he turns to me. “Let's go.” I nod shakily. “Thank you,” he tosses over his shoulder at his friends. He doesn’t stop as he lifts me, pressing me against his chest. I wrap my legs around his stomach, and my hands grasp his neck.

I lock eyes with my sister, hers overflowing with tears, and her lip quivers. Yet, she nods, understanding I need to be with my mate. I know Breeane and the others will take care of her.

Quinn walks away quickly, moving through the trees with determination. Once we are far enough away that the only indication of what happened is the scent of smoke in the air and the stiffness of Quinn’s body, he jogs. His long legs eat up the distance from home. He doesn’t speak, and I’m at a loss as to what to say to make it better. So, I do what I can, holding on tight, tucking my face into his neck.

I feel ungrateful for my family. Sure, they are far from perfect; we may not show love as openly as others, but hearing Rachel eager to kill her son makes me aware of how lucky I have had it. At least they care about my life. I regret every time I hated their smothering presence. Of course, I can’t compare our families; Rachel was in an extreme situation.

Quinn slows, and I lift my head as he walks up the steps to the house. The body of the coyote isn’t on the lawn. I’m grateful; Micah must have taken care of it. I was too anxious to leave to notice earlier.

Quinn swings the door open, pushing lightly on my waist. I drop to my feet, and he moves me to the side. I watch as he locks the door.

“Wait here,” he orders. I wait while he checks the house. There aren’t any odd scents, so no one is here, but I let him do what he needs to. The house is quiet. Quinn's steps echo through it as he walks back. He holds out his hand, and I grip it quickly. I follow as he leads me to the bedroom and then into the bathroom. “Let’s wash it away,” he says softly, and I nod.

He starts the shower and gets out towels, placing them on the sink. I let him undress me, and I watch while he strips. He tests the water and holds his hand out again. I take the steps I need to place my hand in his.

He pulls us under the water and picks up the soap. I stand meekly, allowing him to dictate my moves. My mate needs to clean me. He needs my quiet.

He doesn’t waste time. He doesn’t linger as he washes my body. He washes my hair and then hands me the soap. I glory in cleaning his skin, thankful the cuts are almost healed, trying not to give in to the heat flowing through me and getting stronger with every pass over his body. He rinses off, quickly cleans his hair, and shuts off the water.

I stand still as he dries my body and wraps the towel around me. He uses another to take the wet from my hair. I wait while he takes care of the water on his skin.

My hand is retaken, and he pulls us to the bed. The fabric around me is pulled away.

“In,” he orders, and I don’t question him. I crawl onto the bed. He turns off the light and joins me. “I won’t be marking you tonight. When I do, it won’t be on a day of death and sadness.” He turns to his side, facing me. “I want to look back on the day we bonded with happiness, and it wouldn’t be today.”

“I agree,” I whisper. I glide my hand over his bearded cheek.

“Tonight, I will grieve. I will mourn the mother I knew in the past, not the person who is left in ashes in the woods.” His eyes shine with unshed tears.

“What do you need?” I ask gently.

He takes a breath. “There are no words that can be said. The way you have allowed me to deal with it how I need to is what I need. I want your body pressed to mine through the night. Tomorrow is another day, and we will go on together. Always together.”

“Yes, we will.” He slides his leg between mine, scoots down, and lays his head on my chest. I wrap my arm around him and my other on his head.

“I need a favor,” he says.

“Anything,” I promise, stroking his hair.

“If you ever let another man, friend, vampire, shifter, or human put their hands on you for any reason, I will spank your ass,” he says roughly.

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