Page 99 of Trusting Her Bear

“Fuck you,” Quinn yells, yet the words come out shaky.

One minute, Rachel is pulling out the knife and starting to swing, her face contorted in madness, and Quinn’s bear bursts out, landing on all fours, snarling. Then, the next, Heath’s cane turns into a whip. He lashes out with a flick of his wrist, severing Rachel’s head.

I cover my mouth with both hands, watching Quinn’s mother's head roll to the ground. The thud was loud in the suddenly quiet forest. My wide eyes look around to see our family standing among dead shifters, staring at the scene in front of me. Quinn’s bear is massive; his dark brown fur is standing on end, and his head is swiveling back and forth.

Heath uses whatever magic he has, and the cane is back to normal and at his side. His eyes are glued to the woman he just killed, but his face is blank.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Heath says softly, not bothering to look at the large bear, showing no fear. “Numerous times in my business. There was no saving her. I won’t apologize for protecting you and your mate. It had to be done. I know you didn’t want to do it. I’ll take your anger.” Quinn lowers his nose, skimming Rachel’s body, and a low guttural growl comes from his chest. Then he drops his head to her chest.

I am in awe of Quinn’s bear, but I wish the first time I had seen him shift would have been in better circumstances. He lifts his head and stares at his mom a moment more, and I hold my breath, wondering if he will attack Heath. He roars once, twice, and then shifts back.

Quinn drops to his knees, bowing his head. He says nothing, and I cautiously approach him and slide my hands over his shoulders. Everyone bows their head.

No one speaks.

The scent of blood is thick. Blood of shifters just like us but something happened that changed them into shifters who enjoy spilling the blood of innocents.

I crouch down, wrapping myself around Quinn and laying my head on his back. There are no words I can say to make this feel right. If we were bonded fully, I would be able to know what he is feeling, but I can only guess. His mask is back in place. He hides his emotions so easily in front of other people. I feel like I am the only one he drops it entirely for.

“It had to be done,” Quinn whispers, a low growl following the statement.

Heath lifts his head. “Call,” he says before turning and walking away. I watch him leave, knowing it wasn’t something he enjoyed. His body is stiff, and his knuckles are white as he grips his cane.

“It had to be done,” Quinn repeats louder.

“What do you need, brother,” Micah asks, his face strained. He drops a pair of pants on Quinn’s lap.

“Burn them,” Quinn orders.

“Quinn,” Micah starts, edging closer to Rachel.

“I said burn them,” Quinn snaps.

“Do you want her somewhere—”

“Put her with the family she chose,” Quinn interrupts.

“Alright,” Micah says slowly. “We will take care of them first.” He lifts Rachel's body and moves her further away.

Our friends get to work. Quinn doesn’t move, watching them. I press my knees tighter around his waist and slide my hands over his heart.

“Her love disappeared,” he rumbles. My throat closes. “I should feel grateful that I didn’t have to kill her. I knew there was no saving her, but a part of me that wanted to,” he confesses.

“Of course you did.”

“How could she do it?” he asked, his voice lower than a whisper, only for me to hear.

“I don’t know. I wish I did. I wish I could know the answers.”

“I still loved her.”

“I know.”

“I denied it, but I wanted her to come back. I needed her to choose to return to us.”

“I know, baby,” I say.

“Not like this. Never like this.” He places his palm over my hand.