Page 26 of Bear’s True Mate

It was a dumb question to ask because, if she said yes, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold my bear back anymore.

Rose didn’t answer.

Instead, she looked down at her hands and sniffled.

That was answer enough.

That mother fucker.

My bear snarled, the sound vibrating from somewhere deep in my chest, and I got to my feet and paced. The movement soothed my bear and me a minuscule amount, but it wasn’t enough. I clenched my jaw so tight it ached and tried to keep my bear in check because the last thing Rose needed right now was to meet him.

“He’s never going to touch you again,” I said, realizing I hadn’t said a word to her yet. “I can promise you that.”

My gaze shifted to her for a split second, and I swore I saw her relax. Tension melted from her shoulders, and a sigh escaped her perfect lips. That right there was exactly what my bear and I needed to see.

It calmed us more than anything else could.

Rose lifted to look at me. She searched my face like she was looking for the catch—the caveat, the condition, the part where I’d take back what I’d said or use it against her.

She didn’t find one because there wasn’t one.

I would keep her safe from her asshole of an ex.

End of story.

I didn’t know how, but I knew that I would. She was my mate, and if this jerk tried to harm her again, he’d have to get through me first.

11

ROSE

Iwoke up expecting to feel horrible.

After all, that was usually how it worked. I said too much about Evan, let someone see behind the scenes with him too closely, and the next morning the regret hit me like a hangover—that sick, crawling feeling of having given someone a glimpse into the part of my life I tried to hide behind rainbows and smiles that I couldn’t take back.

The feeling never came, though.

I stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for it to hit, but the dread never came. Instead, all I felt was lighter, like I’d been carrying a bag of rocks and I’d set a few down on the little patio table out front and the remaining weight had shifted into something more manageable.

Nolan knew.

Not everything—not the details, not Evan’s name, not the worst of it—but he knew enough. He knew I’d left someone who’d hurt me. He knew I was scared that person was looking for me.

He hadn’t flinched.

He hadn’t tried to fix it, press to know more, or make it all somehow about him. He’d shown rage, though. I noticed the way his body tensed. I’d also noticed there had been something else out there with us too—something I couldn’t name but couldn’t forget feeling—a presence beside him, or inside him. It was large and fierce and just as protective of me as he was.

He’s never going to touch you again. I can promise you that.

His words floated through my head again, and just like I had in that moment, I believed him.

A knock at the front door pulled me out of my thoughts.

I jerked out of bed and padded quietly through the unit to the front door in my pajamas, my heart thundering inside my chest as fear Evan had found me pumped through me. Holding my breath, I peeked through the slats in the blinds on the window and glanced out to see who it was.

Nolan.

He stood on the steps in jeans and a T-shirt, with an expression on his face I couldn’t read. I exhaled a shaky breath, relieved it wasn’t Evan.