Page 3 of Trusting Her Bear

“At least you get to do it with your mate.”

His mouth tips up. “The bright spot.” He clears his throat. “What is going on?”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“You are grouchier than usual,” he points out.

“I’m fine,” I say firmly.

“The only people that use the word fine are not fine,” he says dryly.

“Do we have a sharing kind of relationship?” I snap.

“No. But maybe Marie is rubbing off on me.” He looks concerned as he rubs his neck.

“Don’t let her.” I look away.

“Don’t let me what?” Marie blurs beside her mate.

“Fuck,” I growl, rolling my eyes.

“Something is up with Quinn, and he won’t say what,” Bash says plainly with a straight face.

“Are you okay?” Marie asks, moving to the front of the desk, her blonde hair flying behind her. Her slight frame is deceptive; her strength and speed rival any large shifter.

“I’m fine,” I grit out. When she opens her mouth to reply, I snap, “There is nothing wrong. Lucas started my morning with a demand for my presence tomorrow night. I had a few glasses of whiskey last night. I’m tired and don’t like the vampire grilling me this early.” I lean back and cross my arms.

“There is something else,” Bash says.

“Yes, there is,” Marie agrees.

“Jesus,” I mumble, tipping my head back.

“Quinn,” Marie says. I give her my attention. “When you need to talk about it, we’ll listen,” she says softly.

“I know,” I say.

“Let's go catch a cheater,” she says brightly, turning to Bash.

“You take the lead, baby,” Bash says as she grabs his hand. He studies my face for a moment and nods before they disappear.

I am a brown bear shifter. Not many can beat me in size when I am in my bear form. There are brown bears, black bears, and polar bears. Brown bears are much larger than black bears, but we are equally fierce when threatened. Polar bears are rare, like the real animals, and they like the cold climates, usually living in sparse areas. Bear shifters are more solitary by nature. We like to be alone. We don’t associate with many types of shifters, not because they are different, but because we just enjoy the silence. We are better one-on-one with people. Some of us get overwhelmed in large gatherings. So I can understand Stephanie being uncomfortable with a bunch of strangers throwing a party in her honor. I suppose that is ultimately the reason I gave in. Besides having a soft spot for Breeane, I know how her friend must feel.

We also like small spaces, somewhere we can seclude ourselves. I have a small house, but most nights, I fall asleep in my office. Against the wall besides my desk is a fold-out couch barely big enough to hold my body. The building isn’t large. There is a waiting room as you walk in, with the receptionist's desk facing the door. There are three offices: mine, Marie’s, and now one for Bash, which he rarely uses.

Shifters thrive on physical touch; most species find it hard to live without it.

My family is different. We don’t need much besides an affectionate head butt. I have visited only a few times over the last year, and they haven’t come here, but that doesn’t mean we have any less love for each other. My brothers and sister call and text regularly. Instead of my Mother's absence tearing us apart, it made us closer than ever. I would do anything for them, and them for me.

My brothers are the only ones who know what I have spent most of my life doing.

I should be more grateful. I fell into a group of shifters and vampires who will do anything for those they consider family. They welcome all kinds into their ranks. Once you are in, they consider your problems theirs. News travels at light speed through the family. Whatever issues have been filtered through everyone within a day, and many times, a plan has already been discussed.

This is why I don’t share. I don’t want them to know everything I have done. I don’t want them to know I just saw a man I spent twelve years of my life with. We were brothers, not by blood, but by choice. We fought together; we were part of a team; our third was a deadly, ancient vampire who people ran from.

Even though I know in my gut that our actions were necessary, the guilt still lives inside me.

I spent twelve years of my life in hell.

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