Book 1 Chapter 15
1085 Words
Bram stormed into the training yard like a man preparing for battle. Torin, unfortunately, was already there leaning against a post, sharpening a dagger, and wearing the smuggest expression Bram had ever seen. “Morning,” Torin said, far too cheerfully.
Bram scowled. “What did I do?”
Torin blinked. “To whom?”
“Ari,” Bram snapped. “She’s avoiding me.”
Torin sheathed the dagger with a click. “Aye, I noticed.”
“That’s not helpful.”
Torin shrugged. “Neither is your tone.” Bram dragged a hand through his hair, pacing. “She won’t look at me. Won’t speak to me. She practically ran from the hall this morning.”
Torin nodded solemnly. “Aye. She did.”
Bram glared. “Torin.”
“What?” Torin lifted his hands. “I’m agreeing with you.”
“I don’t need agreement,” Bram growled. “I need answers.”
Torin tilted his head. “Well… what did you do?”
“I don’t know!” Bram exploded. “That’s the problem!”
Torin considered this. “Maybe you breathed wrong.”
“Torin.”
“Or maybe you glowered too hard.”
“Torin.”
“Or maybe...”
“Torin.”
Torin sighed dramatically. “Fine. I don’t know what you did. But you definitely did something.” Bram let out a frustrated noise that sounded like a bear trying not to roar. “I didn’t do anything. I’ve barely spoken to her since yesterday.”
Torin raised a brow. “And that’s unusual for you?”
Bram opened his mouth, closed it, then glared at the ground. Before Torin could tease him again, Moira stepped out onto the terrace, wiping her hands on her apron. She took one look at Bram’s stormy expression and sighed like she’d been preparing for this moment her entire life. “Saints preserve me,” she muttered. “What’s the lad done now?”
Bram turned to her, desperate. “Moira, Ari’s avoiding me.”
Moira didn’t even blink. “Aye. I saw.”
“Why?” Bram demanded. “What did I do?”
Moira planted her hands on her hips. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you’ve got your foot shoved so far up your own arse you can taste your boot leather.”
Torin choked on a laugh so violently he had to brace himself against the wall. Bram stared at her. “Moira—”
“Don’t ‘Moira’ me,” she said, marching closer. “You’ve been brooding around that poor lass like a thundercloud since she arrived. One moment you’re warm, the next you’re colder than the loch in winter. No wonder she’s confused.”
“I’m not... I don’t...” Bram sputtered.
Moira raised a brow. “Do you or do you not want the girl to like you?” Bram froze.
Torin leaned in. “Careful. She’s using logic.”
Bram ignored him. “I don’t know what I want,” he admitted quietly. “But I don’t want her avoiding me.”
Moira softened just a little. “Then stop acting like a man who’s afraid of his own feelings.”
Torin nodded sagely. “And pull your foot out of your arse.”
Moira smacked him on the back of the head. “I said that respectfully. You do not.”
Torin rubbed his skull. “Fair.”
Bram exhaled, shoulders slumping. “I just… I don’t know how to fix this.”
Moira patted his arm. “Start by talking to her. Properly. Without growling or running. And without acting like the world will end if you admit you care.”
Bram swallowed hard. Torin grinned. “Good luck, mate. You’ll need it.”
Bram glared at him, but the truth was clear: He would need it because Ari Thorne was avoiding him. And he had absolutely no idea why.
Bram didn’t waste time. The moment Moira finished scolding him, he headed straight for the library. If Ari was avoiding him, then he’d find her and fix it. Or at least try to. He pushed open the heavy oak doors.
Empty. Her notebooks were still scattered across the table, her tea half‑finished, a pen lying where she’d dropped it. But Ari herself?
Gone. Bram frowned. She never left her research unfinished. Not unless something was wrong. He checked the alcoves. The window seats. Even behind the tall stacks where she sometimes curled up with a book. Nothing. A knot tightened in his chest. He left the library and strode down the hall to her room. He knocked once.
“Ari?”
Silence. He knocked again, harder. “Ari, are you in there?” Still nothing. Bram’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to invade her privacy, but worry was already clawing at him. He tried the handle. Locked. That wasn’t like her either. He exhaled sharply and reached for the clan’s mindlink, the invisible thread connecting every Fraser werebear on the estate. Has anyone seen Ari? he sent, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.
A chorus of confused replies came back.
No, Laird.
Not since breakfast.
Is something wrong?
Bram ignored the last question. Then Liora’s voice slid into the link like oil on water.
I saw her, she said sweetly.
Bram stiffened. When?
About an hour ago, Liora replied. She was outside, heading toward the barn.
The barn? Why would Ari...
She said she was meeting someone out there, Liora added, her tone dripping with implication. Bram stopped walking. The world narrowed to a pinpoint. Meeting someone? he repeated, his voice dangerously low.
Liora hummed. Mmm. That’s what she said—looked very… eager.
Torin’s voice cut in immediately. Liora, what exactly did she say?
Oh, I don’t remember the exact words, Liora lied breezily. Something about not wanting to be late: she looked flustered. And she was smiling.
Bram’s vision went hot around the edges. Ari. Smiling. Going to meet someone. A man? His bear surged beneath his skin, claws scraping at the inside of his ribs. Torin tried again. Liora, stop stirring sh—
But Bram was already moving. Fast. Faster than he had in years. He didn’t care if he looked unhinged. He didn’t care if he was overreacting. He didn’t care that he had no right to feel this way. All he knew was that Ari was out there. Meeting someone. And he needed to know who. Now.
- Writer
