Page 13 of Asking Fur Trouble

“M-marry?” she stammered. “But we just met today. I thought this was a... a date.”

He frowned. Had Gerri not explained the situation? That didn’t seem like the matchmaker’s usual style.

“Gerri Wilder brought you here as my mate,” he said, the words coming out more forcefully than planned. His bear was growing impatient with these human courtship rituals. “When shifters meet their fated mates, they know immediately. The connection is... undeniable.”

She stared at him, completely silent now. Her hands clutched her purse so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“You’re saying we’re... what? Destined mates? And that I’m supposed to marry you immediately?” Her voice was but a whisper.

“That was the arrangement,” he confirmed, confused by her reaction. “Did Gerri not explain this to you?”

She only shook her head, her lush lips pressed into a thin line. She turned away from him to stare out the window, her body language screaming discomfort.

His bear paced anxiously. Something had gone terribly wrong here. He should fix it, make her understand—but the words wouldn’t come. He had never been very good at these emotional situations.

As the castle loomed closer, the silence in the transport grew heavier. The woman beside him—his mate—had withdrawn completely, her face a mask of shock and confusion.

If he didn’t do something now, this entire thing was going to blow up in his face.

NINE

Bess’s thoughts collided like a twenty-car pileup on a foggy highway. Marry? As in wedding bells, vows, and till-death-do-us-part? With a bear shifter prince she had known for approximately eight hours?

The transport’s plush leather seat suddenly felt too soft, like she might sink into it and disappear. Outside the tinted windows, alien trees with luminescent purple leaves cast eerie shadows as they drove, making the moment feel even more surreal.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Charov’s deep voice broke through her internal panic. His massive frame took up more than his fair share of the backseat, his knee occasionally brushing against hers with each turn of the vehicle. “Did Gerri not discuss the arrangement?”

Bess studied the intricate patterns on the transport’s ceiling, buying more time. Her heart thundered in her chest. Gerri hadn’t said anything about marriage. An adventure, yes. A date with an alien bear shifter prince, absolutely. But a wedding? That detail had mysteriously been left out of the brochure.

“Bess?” Charov leaned forward, those impossibly blue eyes searching her face. The movement brought his scent closer—something wild and earthy that made her dizzy in ways she couldn’t explain.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Her voice came out smaller than she meant, barely audible above the hum of the transport’s engine.

Charov’s brow furrowed, creating a small crease between his eyes. “What exactly did Gerri tell you about coming here?”

Bess shifted on the seat, her blouse rustling softly. “She mentioned an adventure. Meeting you. Nothing about...” She gestured vaguely with her hands, unable to even say the wordmarriagewithout her brain short-circuiting.

His jaw twitched beneath his smooth bronze skin. “That’s not like Gerri.”

“I need to talk to her.” Bess twisted her hands in her lap, her mind racing through a thousand scenarios, none of them ending with her becoming an alien queen.

Charov’s large hand moved toward hers, then stopped, hovering inches away before retreating. “Of course.”

The transport curved around a bend, revealing the gleaming spires of Mavac Castle in the distance, its crystalline towers catching the moonlight of the twin moons. It was breathtaking—and terrifying.

“I understand this is sudden,” Charov said, his voice gentler than before, though still carrying that undercurrent of authority that seemed to be his default setting. “But my father doesn’t have much time, and I promised him?—”

“I can’t just marry someone I’ve barely met,” Bess blurted out, finally finding her voice. “Even if you are...” she gestured at his entire presence, from his chiseled jawline to his broad shoulders, “...all of this.”

A flash of something—amusement?—crossed his face. “All of what, exactly?”

Bess felt heat crawl up her neck. “I need to speak with Gerri first,” she repeated firmly, choosing to ignore his question.

Charov nodded once. “Fair enough. But know this—Gerri Wilder doesn’t make mistakes. If she brought you to me, there’s a reason.”

The certainty in his voice sent a shiver down Bess’s spine. She turned to look out the window, watching the glittering castle grow larger. The night sky of Nova Aurora cast everything in a silvery-blue glow, making the landscape look like something from a dream—or perhaps a nightmare, considering she was apparently expected to marry an alien prince she had just met.

Charov cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. The formality that had stiffened his posture earlier had mysteriously melted away. He leaned toward her, his massive frame somehow less intimidating now that the tension had left his shoulders.

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