Page 5 of Marked By the Possessive Polar Bear
I feel heat in my cheeks and a prickle along the back of my neck.
Adrian…
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. Too long.
He’s the only boy I’ve ever loved. He was eight years older than me and off-limits since he was Magnus’ best friend, but I loved him fiercely anyway.
When I was thirteen, he suddenly left and never came back. Magnus would never tell me what happened even though I asked a gazillion times.
From what I pieced together, he got into bad trouble with the wrong people or something. His house was set on fire for reasons I never found out. Whatever happened, I never saw him again.
But he’s coming back…
“Adrian Cross?” I say, my voice like a tiny mouse. “He’s cominghere? When?”
I hear banging on the other end of the line and then an older lady’s voice complaining that it’s her turn to use the phone booth.
“You’ve been too long,” she whines. “And where is your shirt and shoes? I’m going to call the police.”
Magnus lets out a low growl.
“Magnus,” I say as more banging hits my ears. “Is it really Adrian Cross?”
I hear a bear roaring, a lady screaming, and then the phone line goes dead.
Julian and I stare at each other in shock.
“I hope she can outrun a grizzly,” he says, cringing nervously.
“Yeah,” I say, although my mind is fixated on something else.
Adrian Cross.
In my shop.
In my world.
And I’m not thirteen anymore.
CHAPTER TWO
Adrian
Ilovewatching my polar bear in his element.
When I was forced to hide out in Northern Alaska when all that shit went down eight years ago, it was a nightmare. I had to give up everything, but my polar bear didn’t complain once. He loves it out here.
The crisp snow crunches under his massive paws as we take one last spin through the arctic wilderness. It’s a calm spring day, but the snow hasn’t even begun to melt. It stretches out beneath our paws like a blank page. A breathless world. Untouched and undisturbed.
Humans have left their mark on nearly every inch of this planet, but up here, near the North Pole, the arctic beasts like my polar bear still rule the untamed land. And he knows it.
He raises his head and inhales the cold air, loving how it tingles when it fills his lungs.
This is my bear at his happiest.
I watch from inside as he sniffs a frosted branch before moving forward, rubbing his massive body onto a snowbank as he goes.
The frigid wind shifts and he lifts his nose to the sky, nostrils flaring. A caribou passed through hours ago. A lynx, maybe yesterday. The world speaks in scents out here, and my bear listens like it’s gospel.
