Page 27 of Shared By the Werebears
It wasbothof them—it was sharing her with Finn.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
15
GOLDIE
Iknew at once when we entered The Blighted Forest because the woods changed around us.
The deeper we went, the darker it got—though not in any ordinary way. The sunlight above still filtered through the canopy in scattered shafts, but it didn’t feel warm anymore. The trees here were gnarled and close, their trunks twisted with vines. The few tattered leaves that still clung to their branches whispered and rattled like bones when the wind stirred. Shadows clung in the corners of my vision, always just shy of being anything real. It felt like we were being watched. Maybe we were.
But I couldn’t focus on that—not yet.
Ronan had been quiet all morning. Too quiet. His silence weighed heavier than the oppressive stillness of the haunted forest. He wasn’t walking close to me or looking at me like he had last night, when he thought I couldn’t see. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding me as much as possible. Which hurt—I can’t lie. It’s not nice to be ignored by someone you just had a sexual experience with. I had shared myself with both of them, so Ronan’s silence felt like a rejection.
Finn was different. He kept checking on me, his eyes warm and intent.His big hand occasionally brushed my lower back like he couldn’t quite help it—like heneededto touch me. I didn’t mind. Not when the memory of how he’d tasted me so sweetly was still burned into every nerve ending I had.
And Ronan had watched. Gods, he’dwatched.
And then this morning… he’d stopped it. Stopped me and Finn before we went too far.
I wasn’t mad. I’ve been half Succubus all my life so I understand guilt—especially the kind that wraps itself around your throat and whispers that you’re broken—that what you want, what youneed—is all wrong.
But I also knew what we had—what wecouldhave, the three of us together—wasn’t wrong. It was real. It wasus. The Lust Tea that Willow had given me had called the two males who were supposed to be in my life. Not just for a night, either.
If only I could convince Ronan of that.
“Stop here,” I said softly.
We’d come to a clearing, a space where the vines hadn’t claimed the earth and the sunlight pooled like golden syrup. I could feel something ancient watching from beyond the trees, but for a moment, the oppressive dread lifted just enough to breathe.
“The bitter berry vine’s here,” I told them. “Do you see it?” I pointed.
It was on the far side of the little open area—a bush made of thick, black brambles with long, spike-like thorns. Clinging to its branches were silver berries, each about as big as a grape.
Both of them nodded—Finn crouched and sniffed the underbrush like the Bear inside him was already stirring.
Ronan looked tense. Too tense. He was scanning the trees, his jaw clenched, his broad shoulders high like he was waiting for a fight.
I stepped closer. I had something I needed to say and I was tired of holding it in.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I murmured, just loud enough forhim to hear. “But Ifeltwhat you felt last night, Ronan. Ifeeleverything you do when you touch me.”
He stiffened, but I didn’t stop.
“You didn’t hurt me. Neither of you did. You fed me. You made me feel safe and protected andseen.” My voice caught a little on that last word. “And it felt like you needed what we did as badly as I did.”
His dark eyes flicked to me—startled and vulnerable—and then dropped.
“We can’t talk about this now,” he muttered. “This forest is dangerous. You don’t know what kind of things wait in the dark.”
“I know,” I whispered, reaching for his hand. “But it’s not the forest I’m worried about right now.”
He let me take his hand—but just for a moment. Then he gently pulled away, turned his back and walked to the bush to start harvesting berries.
Still… he hadn’t let go immediately.
It wasn’t much. But it was something.
