Page 47 of Trusting Her Bear
Quinn made me breakfast and coffee, kissed me goodbye, and locked the door on his way out. We made a plan to meet later to eat. I could feel the distance growing between us and couldn’t stop itching my skin. My bear is growling.
My bear has been quiet since I was rescued.
Each shifter has a unique relationship with our animals. Many of us have separate emotions and needs than them. We are the same, yet not. Usually, my bear has the same goal I do. We feel emotions differently, though. I felt my bear's pain the first few days in the cage. We couldn’t shift; we couldn’t be one as we have been my whole life. As time went on, it was as if I was human, the worst feeling a shifter can have.
After I got home, I shifted for the first time in months, and it felt glorious, but my bear was subdued. She was confused by the fears and feelings of inadequacy I felt. It’s as if she doesn’t know where we stand. I feel bad because I have neglected her need to be free.
I put my hand on my chest and look inward. Her presence is always present but hesitant. Since meeting Quinn, her spirit is closer, her will pushing me to trust him. If I concentrate on her, her need to meet his bear and complete the bond is fierce. I have been so wrapped up in what I went through that I didn’t think about her suppression.
We both are in agreement; we hate being away from our mate.
When Quinn and I agree to complete the bond, we will be connected on a level that humans wouldn’t understand. When we bite each other, marking our skin for every shifter to see, I will be able to feel Quinn’s emotions. We will be tied together in every way. If one of us dies, the other cannot go on without the other. Our commitment will be lifelong and never be broken. That kind of closeness has been something I have always wanted.
Why am I still hesitant?
Sure, it could be because of everything I have been through, but in my gut, I know Quinn is my mate and will do anything to protect me.
The front door of the bakery opens, making me spill my coffee on my hand.
“Steph, it’s me,” Breeane yells, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Up here,” I yell back and roll my eyes. Why are we yelling? I could still hear her in the same building if she whispered.
I get up to unlock the door to the apartment and sit back down.
She juggles two cups of coffee as she comes in. “Your mate sent me a strongly worded text. He instructed me to get you more coffee, whatever you liked, and come spend time with you.” She shakes her head, placing the drink in front of me. “He told me to make sure you eat lunch if he isn’t back yet, too.” She plops in the other chair. “You have the same expression I did after I met my lions. How many orgasms has he given you so far?” She smirks and tries to hide it behind her cup.
“Breeane,” I cry.
“What? I’ve seen your mate; there is no way he would let you be uncomfortable being in heat. How many?” she prods.
“Jesus.” I take a sip. “Four,” I mutter.
“I knew it,” she says, snapping her fingers. “Good?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“What do you think?”
“Very good,” she hums. “My lions were really good at convincing me to mate them.”
“I know. You told me. Many times,” I say dryly.
“They are still convincing me, even though we are fully mated,” she says dreamily.
“I’m sure.” I smile.
“Holy shit,” she says.
“What?”
“That smile.” Her eyes shine. “I haven’t seen that smile for a long time. I didn’t know if I ever would. It’s even better than before.” I lower my lashes, but she grabs my hand. “It’s so good. Don’t hide it. I am so happy for you I could burst. I didn’t care that Quinn’s text was devoid of emotion. I didn’t know if I should come over. I didn't want to interrupt, so I’m thrilled to see you.”
“I wanted to see you, too.” Breeane is the more outgoing of the two of us. She makes friends easily and says everything that's on her mind. I have always loved that about her. She’s honest and will defend the ones she loves with a vengeance. Every girl needs a friend with different traits who will push you out of your comfort zone yet know when you have reached your limit.
“The way that man looked at you that first night,” she says, closing her eyes. “Yum.”
“You are ridiculous,” I laugh.
“Don’t lie,” she chides. “You felt the power of his stare. The low growl that said, she is mine,” she says, trying to imitate his deep voice.