Page 131 of Gunnar

then drops just as fast.

Because the bear has golden glowing eyes.

Gunnar’s eyes.

“Is that you?” I whisper.

Relief hits so hard I laugh.

I run to him, boots slipping on the thin layer of snow, and then I’m there, pressing into him, my arms going around his neck as far as they’ll go.

He’s so warm it’s almost shocking after the cold.

I bury my face against him, breathing in his familiar, beloved scent.

“Thank you, thank you,” I whisper, and he gives a beary purr.

Then he shifts under my hands, lowering himself until he’s hunkered down in the snow.

I get it. Gripping the thick fur at his neck, I haul myself up, and swing a leg over his back. He waits until I’ve got my balance before rising again.

“Ready.” I settle against him and he starts forward.

The movement is powerful but smooth. I adjust, leaning into it, my hands fisting in his fur as his heat seeps through my clothes.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

The answer comes a second later.

I was always there.

Not a voice.

Just him—clear and certain in my head.

“Oh,” I say softly.

I lean forward, resting against him.

“I’m glad.”

He keeps moving, and I let myself be carried.

The trees thin ahead of us, the ground leveling out as Gunnar carries me through the last stretch.

I lift my head, about to say something, when he stops, and lowers himself again. I have no option but to slide off.

Vehicles.

Again, that voice in my head.

Stay here.

And he’s gone.

I stand there for half a second.

Then I follow, picking my way forward through the last stretch of trees.