Page 49 of Asking Fur Trouble

The hovercraft veered away from the main river channel, heading toward a less-traveled tributary.

“They knew that to rule effectively, they needed time alone. Time to be mates, not just king and queen.” Charov’s voice deepened. “I have responsibilities, duties I won’t shirk. But I also have something they taught me was even more important.”

“What’s that?” Bess asked, leaning closer.

“The duty to make sure my mate feels loved and adored.” His eyes locked with hers, unyielding in their intensity. “You deserve nothing less, Bess.”

Before she could respond, Charov spotted the hidden inlet he was searching for—a secluded cove where the river curved around an outcropping of ancient, moss-covered rocks. Trees with trailing purple blossoms lined the banks, their reflections rippling in the crystalline water.

“We’re making a detour,” he announced, steering the craft toward shore. His grandmother’s ring pressed against his thigh through his pocket, and a burst of inspiration struck him. This place—this moment—felt right.

The hovercraft settled gently on the soft sand of the shoreline. Charov jumped out and extended his hand to Bess, his touch lingering as he helped her onto the bank. The scent of wildflowers mingled with her natural sweetness, making his bear rumble with pleasure.

“What are we doing here?” Bess asked, taking in the secluded beauty of their surroundings.

Charov’s heart pounded as his plan crystallized. He wouldn’t just give her the ring—he would create a moment worthy of the mate who had already changed his life. A moment that showed her she was more than a royal obligation.

“I want to show you something.” He led her toward a small clearing where sunlight dappled through the purple canopy overhead.

His inner bear was restless, eager to claim what was his. Charov breathed deeply, channeling that primal energy into something more controlled but no less powerful. He would make this perfect for her.

“The royal appearances, the crowds—that’s just one facet of this life.” He tucked a strand of her wavy brown hair behind her ear, allowing his fingertips to trail along her jawline. “But this—” he gestured to the private cove “—this is what matters. The moments that are ours alone.”

Charov’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat hammering against his ribcage with primal force. This was it. The perfect moment in the perfect place. He’d faced down savage beasts without flinching, ruled a territory of powerful shifters, but now his hands trembled ever so slightly as he reached for Bess’s soft fingers.

“You’ve seen what this life demands of me,” he said, his voice deeper than usual, thick with emotion. “But you haven’t seen what I’m willing to give for you.”

The sunlight filtered through the purple canopy, casting a violet glow across Bess’s face. Her eyes widened as Charov lowered himself to one knee, the sand cool beneath him. His inner bear roared with approval, urging him to claim what was his.

“The moment Gerri brought you to Nova Aurora, something shifted inside me.” He pulled the ring box from his pocket and opened it, his grandmother’s heirloom catching the light.

“I tried to fight it.” His blue eyes locked onto hers, unwavering. “Tried to protect myself from feeling what my parents had, from risking that same devastating loss.”

Bess’s lips parted slightly, her breath quickening. The reaction sent heat coursing through him, stoking the fire within him.

“But you, Bess Campos...” Charov’s voice rumbled with certainty. “You dismantled every defense. You organized my chaos. You challenged me to be more than just my father’s son—to be the king I was meant to be.”

He held the ring higher between them, its brilliance eclipsed only by the raw intensity in his gaze. “I love you. Not because some shifter instinct tells me you’re my mate, but because I’ve seen your heart. I’ve watched you take charge when everything around me was falling apart. I’ve felt your touch heal wounds I didn’t know I had.”

The breeze stirred her wavy brown hair, and Charov fought the urge to reach up and run his fingers through those soft strands. His bear was growing impatient, demanding he finish this and claim her completely.

“My life as king begins now. And I don’t want to rule a single day without you beside me.” His voice dropped to a possessive growl. “I need you, Bess. Not just as my mate, but as my queen, my partner, my everything.”

He drew a deep breath, savoring the perfect mix of her scent with the flowers surrounding them.

“Will you marry me? Will you be my queen?”

His words hung in the air between them. Charov watched Bess’s face, waiting for the smile to break across her beautiful features, for her to throw herself into his arms as his bear expected.

But seconds passed, and Bess remained frozen, her green eyes wide and unblinking, her lips slightly parted but silent. The breeze stirred her hair again, but otherwise, she might have been carved from stone.

Charov’s heart sank like a stone in the river beside them. His inner bear growled in confusion. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. His mother’s words echoed in his mind:humans operate differently than shifters.

Had he moved too fast? Had he misread everything between them? The passionate nights they’d shared, the way she’d helped him through his grief, the perfect way she fit against his body—had it all meant something different to her?

“Bess?” he prompted, his voice rougher now, vulnerability bleeding through his alpha confidence.

Still, she stood there, staring at the ring, her chest rising and falling rapidly. But not a single word escaped her lips.

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