Page 64 of Gunnar

And then I realize: they’re powerful shifters. They don’t belong in this broken-down old place.

Gunnar shifts his plate aside and leans a little closer. Firelight catches in his eyes.

“Our clan was negotiating a territory dispute,” he says. “They offered a political solution.”

“What kind?”

“They presented me with a mate.”

My stomach tightens.

“A mate?”

He nods. “It was supposed to bind the clans together. But I refused.”

He exhales slowly.

“Things escalated. One of their Betas attacked. Orson went feral and killed him.”

His hands curl into fists.

“Now we owe a blood debt.”

A shiver runs down my back. “And how would you pay it?” I manage to ask.

“They’ll forgive it if I accept the mating alliance. Or if I hand over Torin or Orson. Or we go to war.”

He meets my eyes.

“So we left.”

“Wow.” I sit back, taking that in.

“You’re going to stay up here forever?” I ask after a pause.

He shrugs. “Until something changes. And it will,” he adds calmly. “Things always do.”

I nod slowly. “That’s how I’ve always felt too.”

He leans in closer and his fingers brush against mine. “How so?”

The contact is light, but electric.

“Oh,” I say quickly, suddenly flustered. “Just that… nothing in my life has ever felt very permanent.” I brush a hand across my forehead.

Gunnar studies me. “Bears don’t like change,” he says. “We’re simple creatures. We like putting down roots. Building big clans.”

He glances around the room.

“This conflict… it’s thrown all of us off balance.”

I sit very still.

His fingers are still resting against mine.

He hasn’t pulled them away.

“Why did you reject the political mate?” I ask.