Gerri thought he could handle this situation, but for the first time in his adult life, Korran wasn’t sure he could handle anything at all.
FIVE
TESS
The corridors of the estate stretched before them like something from a historical documentary—vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate stone carvings, vibrant tapestries depicting bear shifter battles, and tall windows that offered glimpses of the snow-covered landscape beyond.
Tess’s practical boots clicked against the polished marble floors, each step echoing in the vast space. Queen Lysia moved beside her with the fluid grace of someone born to navigate these halls, her elegant dress whispering against the floor as they walked in contemplative silence. The queen’s blue eyes remained fixed ahead, her composed features giving nothing away, but Tess caught the subtle tension in her shoulders—the kind that came from carefully managed stress.
I need this quiet to process whatever the hell just happened back there.
Because something had definitely happened in that office, something that defied every rational explanation Tess possessed. She flexed her right hand, trying to dispel the persistent tingling that had started the moment Prince Korran’s skin touched hers. The sensation refused to fade, as if her nerve endings had been rewired during that brief contact.
Bear shifter pheromones. That’s all. Heightened biochemical response to alien physiology.
But even as her scientific mind offered logical explanations, her body remembered the moment their eyes had locked across that office. The way his deep brown gaze had dilated with something that looked dangerously close to hunger. The way her pulse had accelerated not with fear, but with recognition—as if some primal part of her had been waiting her entire life for exactly that moment.
Ridiculous. You don’t even believe in that soulmate nonsense.
Yet she couldn’t shake the memory of how his massive frame had gone absolutely still when she’d entered the room. Or how his grip had tightened on her hand for just a heartbeat longer than professional courtesy required. Or how he’d released her hand like she’d burst into flames and then fled the room with all the grace of a panicked teenager.
Definitely not typical princely behavior.
She’d met powerful men before—department heads, research directors, grant committee chairs who controlled funding and careers with casual indifference. But she’d never seen one of them lose composure so completely. The Crown Prince of the Northern Dominion had looked at her like she represented either salvation or destruction, and he couldn’t decide which terrified him more.
When Queen Lysia had returned with him, the dynamic had shifted again. The prince had seemed simultaneously distracted and overbearing, offering his personal assistance while maintaining careful physical distance. Meanwhile, his mother had handled the entire situation with the poise of someone accustomed to managing crises—everything a queen should be.
I’m probably just unfamiliar with how things work here.
They reached the grand staircase, and Tess paused despite herself. The sweeping marble steps curved upward, supported by carved stone pillars that depicted bears in various poses—hunting, protecting cubs, and standing in regal dignity. Afternoon sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting jeweled patterns across the white stone.
This place makes the Smithsonian look modest.
“The guest wing is on the second floor,” Queen Lysia said, her voice carrying a cultured tone.
They climbed in continued silence, Tess’s analytical mind cataloging details. The estate felt lived-in rather than simply opulent—family portraits lined the walls, showing generations of bear shifter royalty, and she noticed recent additions that included the queen herself. Despite the obvious wealth, there was warmth here, evidence of a family rather than just a dynasty.
The corridor on the second floor was equally impressive, with doors spaced far enough apart to suggest rooms of considerable size. Queen Lysia stopped before an ornate door and turned the crystal handle.
“This will be your suite.”
Tess stepped through the doorway and felt her breath catch. The space before her was larger than her entire Chicago apartment—a sitting area complete with plush furniture arranged around a massive stone fireplace, bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, and windows that offered panoramic views of the snow-laden landscape. Through an archway, she glimpsed a separate bedroom dominated by a four-poster bed that could comfortably sleep four people.
Holy shit.
“This is...” She turned slowly, taking in hand-carved furniture that belonged in a museum and artwork that probably cost more than her graduate school. “This is bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived.”
The queen’s lips curved in what might have been amusement. “I hope you find these accommodations suitable.”
“Suitable?” Tess laughed, the sound slightly breathless. “This is incredible. Thank you for providing me with such a beautiful space for my stay.”
But as she spoke, she noticed the way Queen Lysia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The older woman’s composure remained perfect, but something troubled lurked beneath the surface—the same tension Tess had observed during their walk.
“I apologize for my son’s behavior earlier.” The queen’s voice carried genuine regret. “He’s under considerable pressure with everything happening regarding his father’s health and the additional responsibilities he’s taken on. He becomes overwhelmed by change.”
Change. Is that what I am?
“You don’t need to apologize, Your Majesty.” Tess set down her suitcases, the modest luggage looking absurdly out of place in the elegant room. “I understand that everyone must be under enormous stress. During my mother’s illness, I felt overwhelmed and stressed constantly, so I get it.”
