Fearless Bond (Bears of Beauville #1)

Chapter 1

1

CALVIN

I only ever got an anxiety attack when there was no actual danger.

Right now, alone in the mountains with the temperature below freezing, I was afraid but not panicking—and that made all the difference. Chances were, I’d make it. I could still breathe, walk, and think, which were privileges I would never take for granted.

Before my phone died, I’d found my location on the map. A small town called Beauville stretched six miles east of where I stood. If I followed the contour line and never went downhill or uphill, I would get there. Eventually. I couldn’t walk along the road. Damian would come back for me, spot me, and drag me into his car.

“You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, Calvin. Who will date a mentally ill omega, huh? You’re going to regret this.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“Who’ll take care of you?”

“You haven’t been taking care of me, Damian. You’ve been ordering me around.”

“You think you can make it without me? You’re nothing without me! Sick in the head, worthless, frigid piece of shit.”

I trudged through the forest in the thickening snowfall, doing my best to head in the right direction. Six miles wasn’t far as long as I didn’t get lost.

My thin jacket and sneakers were useless in this weather. I had to keep moving so I wouldn’t get too cold. The wind howled and trees creaked above me, but the forest shielded me from the worst of it. The two inches of fresh snow on the ground were good for one thing—they stopped the night from turning pitch black. But my ankles got wet, and my toes were starting to feel numb. How long would it take for frostbite to cause permanent damage?

Don’t think about that. Keep walking.

Head down, I hiked forward, stumbling over rocks and fallen branches that hid in the snow. I fell a couple of times but scrambled up quickly. My hands burned from the thawing snow, so I tucked them into my sleeves. For once, I was grateful that, because of my ridiculous size, I had trouble finding clothes that fit. My long sleeves might save my fingers from falling off.

Six miles. I ran that distance on a treadmill three times a week. I could do this.

Okay, maybe six miles in this terrain would be a different challenge. How far had I gone already? I couldn’t see any lights ahead and didn’t know what time it was.

I was so fucking tired. And thirsty.

Don’t eat the snow.

I didn’t remember when or where I’d read that advice, didn’t even remember why people weren’t supposed to do it, but I knew I shouldn’t.

Just keep walking.

My foot got caught in something, and the next second, I was face down in what might have been blueberry bushes. My sneaker slid off my foot. I sat on the ground, wetness seeping through my jeans and underwear, and quickly brushed off my sock before wrangling the shoe back on. I could barely feel my toes anymore.

For a moment, I sat unmoving, my chest heaving. I wanted to curl up and sleep.

That’s how you die. Get up.

Get. Up. Calvin!

“Get up!” I said out loud and stood.

That was when I saw it.

A dark silhouette against the snowy forest—big head, round ears, thick middle.

A bear.

It stood on its hind legs, staring right at me.

I stared back. Freezing to death didn’t seem so bad compared to being mauled and torn apart.

How tall was the animal? Ten feet? More? It looked like it could swallow me whole and still have some room left for dessert.

I couldn’t distinguish its color in the dark, but black bears weren’t this big.

A grizzly then.

Just my luck.

And I’d made it this far. It was unfair.

I closed my eyes and blew out what would be my last breath.

This is it.

Except nothing happened. A thump and a few stomps, and then only the wind whooshing.

I squinted into the darkness.

The animal was gone.

“Okay. Okay. I’m not dead yet.”

Shuddering, I resumed my hike, trying not to think about what the prickling pain in my legs might mean. The adrenaline from the wildlife encounter could fuel my muscles for a while, so I marched on. My thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of images and fragmented memories. I grabbed one and replayed it in my head. It was a nice memory… or more of a fantasy. It had started the grand change that led me here.

A few days ago, I’d dreamed about being pregnant. My stomach was round and pretty, and I petted it with wonder. I was going to have a baby, but not with Damian. There was someone else; some unknown alpha stood behind me. I didn’t know his name, but I felt like I knew him. His warm hands rested on my shoulders, and I was happy.

Then I’d woken up and realized it had only been a dream. I’d started crying. Already dressed for work, Damian had rolled his eyes. He’d been dismissive about what he called my “episodes,” treating me like a nuisance when I got anxious. Sometimes, I couldn’t help but agree with him. When I couldn’t keep my shit together like normal people, I was a burden, right?

But that day, when he threw the package of my prescription meds on the bed and left without a word, I got angry. I was furious like never before, and it helped better than any pills my father or Damian had ever stuffed down my throat. My tears dried, but my anger stayed with me like a protective shield.

What if the child I’d dreamed about had been Damian’s? I imagined having a family with him, being dependent on his love and kindness. What kindness? Had he ever loved me? I hadn’t told Damian about the dream—he’d have laughed at me. But when I sat in the car with him, about to spend the weekend with him, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I told him that I wasn’t happy and that we were too different.

His reaction confirmed what I’d already known. I was better off without him.

You’re about to freeze to death. Do you still think you’re better off?

I let out a startled, breathless laugh. Yep, I’d rather freeze to death right here than spend the rest of my life dying inside next to Damian Hart.