Page 78 of Heir

“But you understand me?”

I nodded.

“Which form do you prefer? Human or bear?”

A happy rumble tumbled out of my chest.

She laughed. “I suppose it’s less frowned upon for bears to eat from a dumpster than humans. And you can run faster, don’t need clothes, and it’s completely expected and acceptable for you to be grumpy.”

She hit the nail on the head.

“Your fur is so soft.” She stroked my nose. “This part here is like velvet.” I nuzzled her face, loving how affectionate I could be with her in my shifted form. I licked her cheek, and she giggled. “You’re doing this because you can get away with it in bear form.”

Damn, she was smart.

Her mouth dipped into a deep frown, and she nuzzled me back, closing her eyes. It felt good to be close to her like this. “I’m really sad, Zandren,” she whispered, her words coming out quiet and hoarse.

I nuzzled her more.

“I’m also really angry. Delia is dead and all I want to do is find the people who killed her, and hurt them as much as I’m hurting now.” Her sniffles tugged painfully at my heart and she wrapped both arms around me and cried terrible, wracking sobs into the fur of my neck. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

I brought a big paw up and wrapped it around her, pulling her closer to me. She collapsed against my chest and continued to cry. I hated how good I felt right now when she was so broken. But having my mate trust me like this, having her turn to me for comfort, was a new kind of joy and pleasure I’d never felt before.

Lifting her head from my chest, she glanced up at me, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Are you purring? Do bears purr?”

I bobbed my gigantic head.

Indeed, bears did purr. Usually, it was cubs that purred when they were content after nursing, but adults could too, when they were just that happy.

And even though she was in pain, I was so happy to just be with her like this. To have her accept my bear form and wrap her arms around me, seeking solace.

Her smile was sweet and small. “It sounds like a muscle car idling.”

I nudged her gently with my nose, still purring.

Her eyes widened. “If we mate . . . we don’t have to do it with you in bear form, do we? Because you’re a very handsome bear and all but . . .”

I chuckled inside, which came out like a choppy growl as I shook my head.

She relaxed and petted me again. “Phew. Because I’m cool with you being a shifter—words I never thought I’d say out loud, by the way—but it’d feel way too much like beastiality otherwise.”

I snorted and dipped my head so she could better scratch behind my ears.

“Were you disappointed I wasn’t a shifter?” she asked, locking eyes with me. The sincerity and worry in her moss-green eyes made me flick my tongue out and lick her salty, tear-covered cheeks. She giggled and swatted me away. “I’m being serious. Were you disappointed?”

I hesitated, which made her eyes widen, but then I shook my head. No, I wasn’t disappointed. I was surprised, but one look at her, and I adjusted my expectations and dove head-first into whatever this new future was going to be. She was my mate, regardless of whether she was a bear, a shifter, a vampire, or a demon. But thank the gods, she wasn’t a vampire.

I bent my head and nuzzled my snout beneath her chin. She pressed a kiss to the top of my nose. “This has really helped, thank you.” Our gazes locked. “My heart hurts a little less, but it’s still pretty broken.” I moaned in empathy. I knew exactly how she felt. My heart shattered when my mother and sister died. And even though time had passed, and I was better, the pain of losing a parent never completely went away. I could only imagine her pain was compounded because Delia was the only parent she’d ever known.

We sat on the earth for a little longer, her tears falling with abandon on my fur. I let her hug me as hard as she needed. And when the emotions came back and thrashed her once more, she buried her face in my neck and screamed as loud as she could, her fingers tangled up tight in my fur. I didn’t mind. I was a big bear and could handle it. If I could take away her pain completely, I would. I’d absorb it, or live with it myself for eternity as long as she was able to live freely without it.

I’m not sure how long we sat there, but I ignored the incessant rumbling of my stomach and let her get it out. I let her cry and scream and feel all the feelings. She tried so hard to be tough. To tell the world she didn’t care, but deep down, she cared so much. She cared about her aunt. She cared about Gemma. She really was the perfectly cooked marshmallow ready for a s’more.

The sharp caw of a crow overhead pulled her attention. She’d stopped sobbing about fifteen minutes ago and just clung to me, softly weeping and sniffling. She lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and wet. I flicked my tongue out and licked her cheeks again, tasting her salty tears. She smiled and laughed through stuttered breaths. “We should get back. And you’re probably starving.”

I was.

But I didn’t care. If she needed me to hold her for ten days and fast while doing it, I would.

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