Page 23 of Make Me Bleed

I don’t have a good reason why. The longer I wait, the harder it will be to pretend the bond doesn’t exist. It might pull me toward him instead, but I rebel against that idea. Van Durens don’t beg. If he’s a predator who wants his mate so badly, why isn’t he here?

What is he finding it so easy to stay away from me when the only thing holding me back is my pride and the fear of being trapped in his dark den with no escape?

For the last ten days, my home has beenmysanctuary. And then, this afternoon, it suddenly became too oppressive for me. I needed fresh air, and I decided to take the stroll that Julian denied me the afternoon I first met Hank.

But as though he has been waiting for just the opportunity, I saw the smirking vampire for the first time in days. Instead of speeding toward me, he leisurely headed for me.

We met in the opening between two other cabins. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see into the trees that surround Dyea. And while maybe I was looking that way to avoid having to see the expectations written in his flawless features, but I absently searched the woods—and I saw him.

I saw Hank.

He wasn’t in his skin. A large grizzly on all fours, the large bear was tromping along through the woods, almost as though taking the same path on the outside of the town as I was on the inside of it.

I saw him, my voice caught, and I completely forget about Julian. I think he might’ve even said something to me, but lust warred with panic inside of my head. Panic won it, I blurted out some nonsensical excuse, and turned back to flee towardmy cabin, sending the thuds of the bear’s paw hitting the dirt a hundred feet away from me as he raced me home.

That was hours ago and I’m still keyed-up from the encounter. Especially since, after I let myself inside, a peek through the kitchen window revealed at the bear was still in the woods, as though waiting for me.

He disappeared hours ago, and yet… as I tie my robe tight, I can’t shake the feeling he’sthere.

It doesn’t help that all of my senses are fired up, attuned to Hank. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the bear I caught watching me from the woods. I only saw him in his fur once, but his mammoth size left an impression on me. Besides, it’s like my vampire ability to know when someone is lurking near my territory, heading for my door has been cranked up to eleven since I drank from him.

I justknowthat it was Hank. He was there, watching over me while still keeping some distance between us. It’s no less than what I’d expect from a predator like a bear, and I try not to be too pleased with the knowledge that he can’t stay away.

Like heneedsto be near me.

Like I’m so close to facing the darkness to be close to him…

Hank doesn’t ask me to come any closer, though. He just waits, patient and certain, like his entire world hinges on whether I acknowledge him or not.

For now, this is as close as I can get to him. After pacing the living room, too restless and anxious to return to my bedroom, I eventually find myself on the back porch. With the door flung open and the light left on in the room behind me, I’m safely ensconced in the cocoon of illumination while bravely peering into the dark shadows out in the trees.

My throat tightens, fangs elongating as I catch sight of a bear-sized patch of impossibly black directly in front of me.

In the night, the sound of his bear chuffing at me—almost like a greeting—carries over to me on the still air. His head bobs. I lift my hand, caught in half-hearted wave, my heart beating like a drum against my ribs.

The clouds roll over the half moon, freeing it. A stray beam hits, landing on the large rock that takes up most of the clearing between my house and the trees. For a moment, I’m reminded of when I first found Hank sleeping out in the wild, where the thicker rows of trees grew in lines like matchsticks, and the open tracts of land were rocky and still snow-covered.

Then I peer closer, noticing something pale perched in the center of the dark stone.

If it was a new moon, or the cloud cover was impenetrable, I never would’ve had the nerve to do what I do next. The dark would be too daunting, too oppressive, but there’s enough light to guide my way, to the rock and back.

Whatever it is, it’s about as big as my palm. I scoop it, dashing back to the porch. The entire run takes less than five seconds, but when I peer into the trees again, the bear-sized patch of shadows have melded in with the rest of them.

As though he was just waiting for me to find what was outside, Hank is gone.

I step inside, closing the door behind me and locking it. Safely in the kitchen, I lift the object high so I can see it.

It’s a bear. Whittled down from a hunk of wood, it’s a carving of a bear.

And it’s a gift from my mate.

My beloved.

Mine.

CHAPTER 8

RESEARCH

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