“This is all too much. I don’t understand.”
This was what I was afraid of—at least one of the many things these days. “I know. And most people find their mates either within their den, or it’s someone who already knows all the histories that go into the concept of mating bonds. I didn’t want to tell you. At least, not yet.”
Sage narrowed her eyes. “I asked you to tell me all of your secrets, and now you’re telling me I’m your mate? That we’re fated?”
“We can say no. We can walk away.” It was a complete lie. I reached out, unable to stop myself, and pushed a stray lock of her hair behind an ear. Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating as her mouth parted. “I don’t want to walk away. At least, not until I know you.”
“And if you find out who I am, will you walk away?” she asked, confusion etched on her face.
Never. “I don’t know. But I’d like to find out. I want to see who you are. I want my bear to know you. The man wants it, as well.”
“I don’t understand what this means,” she whispered.
“I know. I know you don’t understand a lot of what’s going on, and that you’re trying to keep up. I didn’t want to throw this at you on top of everything else, but you can feel it, can’t you? The connection?”
She licked her lips, and I saw sadness there for a brief instant. I wanted to kick myself.
“It doesn’t change how you loved him,” I whispered, and she pulled away, her expression turning stony.
“Nothing can change that.”
My heart ignored the punch. This wasn’t about me. I’d never be a replacement. That wasn’t what fate dealt. None of this was easy, and all I could do was lumber over and get in her space. “I know our hearts can do many things and not forget. So, I’m going to go now because I know you have a lot to think about. I feel the connection, and I know you do, too. Or at least I hope you do.”
She looked at me, her eyes wide, a pleading look in her gaze. “I don’t know what to think right now, Rome.”
“I know. So, I’m going to go. I’ll be back. Even if it’s so you can push me away. I’m also here as the alpha of the bears to protect our town. So, I’ll be back.”
I wanted to reach out, to touch her, but I didn’t. I turned on my heel and left, leaving her confused and in pain. I could feel it.
And I hated myself for it.
I closed the door behind me and frowned, sniffing the air. Had someone been here? Listening? I didn’t know, but I pulled out my phone and called Jaxton to ask that his wing keep an eye on her.
My bear wanted Sage, and so did I. But something was watching us. Something was coming. And I knew that no matter what, regardless of the choice she made, I would always protect her, even if it took everything I had.
Chapter Nine
Sage
In the blink of an eye, it was opening day, and Ravenwood Sweets was ready for the town. Only I didn’t know if the town was prepared for me.
I had come to Ravenwood to start a new life, to open a bakery, to work for myself. To be near my aunt and try to settle in where I could be appreciated and not pushed away and painfully ignored by those who should have protected me.
I still couldn’t quite believe that this was my life, that this was how I was living now.
Ravenwood wasn’t a simple town. Far from it.
“The place looks amazing,” Penelope said as she bustled around the bakery. People milled about, drinking coffee, talking to one another about what they were eating.
I nodded, smiling, exhaustion settling over me. “It’s day one, and it’s a soft open. I don’t even have everything yet.”
“You’re getting the hang of it. You’ve worked at bakeries for years. You’ve got this.”
I had. When I was married to Rupert. I’d worked for other people, something his family hadn’t appreciated, but that was neither here nor there. “This is still my first time opening my own business. It’s going to be a little different.”
“You’ve got this.”
“You sure do,” Sabrina, my new helper, said as she walked past, a carafe of coffee in her hands.
We wouldn’t serve coffee like this on regular days since everyone would take theirs in the reusable cups they brought in themselves to protect the environment, but today was different. It was a soft opening, and we were having a little party. I had baked some of my favorite brownies, honey buns, cinnamon rolls, cookies, and pound cakes, and people were enjoying them with coffee. We were a bakery, not a proper coffee shop, so while we would have some espresso and coffee to sell, we were here for the baked goods and the bread. I had also made brioche, French bread, challah, ciabatta, round loaves, plaits, and so many others, and they were going out the door like crazy. People were buying them in droves, and I hoped they weren’t doing it to feed the ducks outside. Not that the fowl didn’t deserve my bread, but I didn’t want the townsfolk to buy things simply to make me happy.
Jaxton had already come in, grinning as he looked at a large loaf of challah. He’d eventually taken four. I had raised my brow, and he’d only smiled. “I like challah, and I’m pretty sure you already have a lifelong customer in me.” He had then leaned down to brush a kiss on my cheek in friendship and walked away.
I had been left there standing, blinking, as other people I only knew by sight around town laughed.
An older man smiled. “You’re part of the town now. Jaxton will know how to take care of you. In a fixer sense, of course.”
“Jaxton is quiet, caring. A sweet boy. He will always be there to help you out. You have to remember that he needs help, too, even if he doesn’t say it,” Penelope said after the hawk shifter had left.
I tried to keep up with the orders, grateful that all the exhaustion I had put myself through for this opening day seemed to have been worth it. I didn’t think people would continue buying at this rate once I was open officially, but they were already talking about special orders and asking what they could get once the place was open full time. I loved baking bread. That was my main focus at the bakery, but I would be making cakes, cupcakes, and other specialty items for order and some daily for the mornings. The town didn’t have a bakery or a coffee shop, and I was filling that need.
Rowen walked in during a slight lull, even though there were still twenty people milling about, looking at bread and adding things to their small, handheld baskets.
She grinned and looked around. “You’re doing well. I’m glad to see it.”
I smiled, feeling as though I had known her for years, yet it had only been a few days. “I’m trying. Can I get you anything?”
“I love bread.” She lowered her head as she studied a plaited loaf. “I’ve never been good at plaits. I always forget what goes over or under and end up with a nice little twist that I tuck underneath and pretend isn’t messed up.”
“I honestly can’t believe you do anything that isn’t perfect,” I said, shaking my head.
She raised a brow. “Oh, I tend to do imperfect things often. That’s what makes me human.” She winked. “Or, at least, marginally human.”