Page 26 of Gold & Shadow

He growled in annoyance and I tried to hide my smile as I went to scavenge some clothes and supplies.

Being a bear suited him.

It took an hour to fully attend to his wounds, Orson grumbling like a child every time I cleaned and tended a new gash. It didn’t make much sense to bandage a bear, but I slathered the wounds in the green paste he had used on me, hoping they would speed his healing.

He already seemed much better when I finished and he hooked me with a paw, pulling me into his side. “Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I argued, putting my hands up as he snorted and dropped his head next to mine, a large paw remaining draped over my chest as if he feared I would escape.

I languidly stroked the fur behind his ear.

“I could have killed you,” he growled, his voice a deep rumble, his body warm, and soft, and slightly green in places.

“Self-pity later,” I whispered, cupping his face in my hands. “What do you need?”

“You,” he replied, nuzzling into my neck, “Naked.”

“Still a bear,” I reminded him, smoothing the fur on his muzzle.

“I would still enjoy it,” he rumbled, shifting slightly so we were face to face, his paw pillowing my head on the fur rug. “Your employer is a delight.”

“Not sure that’s where we should begin this conversation,” I replied dryly. “But yes, villains aren’t known for being particularly considerate.”

“I’m planning to eviscerate him with my bare claws,” Orson growled. “And strangle him with his own barbed chains.”

“We have several pressing matters to deal with before you get your revenge,” I chastised, biting my lip to hide my amusement as I scratched his jaw.

He let out a noise closer to a purr than a growl. “Such as?” he murmured, his voice distractingly seductive.

“Such as retrieving your amulet,” I said, trying to ignore the building desire in my core. For a bear. Gods help me. “Questioning Victor about his buyer, eviscerating Victor,”—Orson laughed at this— “finding your family, and discussing exactly how I am able to speak to you when you told me that losing your amulet would mean losing yourself.”

Orson grunted, avoiding my eyes as he pulled me closer.

“Orson,” I demanded, speaking into the space just beneath his furry maw. “Why was I able to get through to you?”

“I have a theory,” Orson murmured, still not looking at me. “But I could be wrong.”

“Try me,” I said gently, tilting his muzzle down so he was forced to meet my gaze.

Orson swallowed. “Kjære,” he said, repeating the word that had gotten through to him. “It means ‘love’ in Bjørnespråk. In bear language.”

“Oh,” I said, something fluttering unevenly in my chest. “Love.”

“Yes,” Orson rumbled. “Only one bond could be strong enough that I would remember myself without my amulet. There are a few records of it, but I wasn’t sure it was true.”

“What bond, Orson?” I pushed, my stomach twisting in anticipation.

He let out a rumbling growl again, his beary face unreadable. “Mates.”

“Mates?” I asked, the word making something permanent and solid settle in my heart.

Orson shifted, lumbering over me and caging me in, his maw resting on my chest. “Shifters are primal. We have animal instincts,” he explained, his growl underlying the conversation. “Mating is a sacred bond in shifters, often said to be chosen by the stars. We mate for life, and never leave our partner. It’s ironic,considering Lycon wanted to punish Artis by preventing exactly this sort of bond.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to digest all of this. The closest equivalent among elves were probably lifebonds, in which two elves—or half-elves or an elf and a human—joined their lives through a sharing of blood and magic, tying themselves together for however long their lives would be. It provided humans with slightly extended lives, although at the cost of the elven life, which was always shortened.

The whole idea was very romantic, far more so than the simple idea of a legal marriage that bound the humans. I liked the idea that my father had loved my mother so deeply, he was willing to give up hundreds of years of life to be with her.

But the shifter notion of fated mates was also rather romantic.