Your Cross To Bear Novels & Stories

No one wanted me here. So what’s the point in worrying about them? What’s the point of being good? I have to ask. Like the bear, my efforts here were going to nothing anyway. It doesn’t matter what I do. I’ve decided and give the bear a quick squeeze for courage. His plush body is almost too much for my hand, but that’s fine. I still have my right to open the door. The door creaks wider as I push to pour the music into the hall. It’s clear now without the wood to silence it. And it tickles my ears as I step in with one last push.

“What I’m saying is that you should just listen to your grandfather, son.” That’s exactly what Cross has been doing with his whole life—listen to his Grandfather, their family’s head. He’s been showing himself every Monday and makes sure to report everything that is happening to his life because that is the only way he could indirectly say that he doesn’t need to find a spouse.

One member of the bear clan steps, skinny and ruddy faced, steps forward. “Could the wolf girl read the poem again?” Barrett hands the carving back to me with a commanding grunt. I obey, reading the inscription slowly, clearly, and loudly. “Yeah, I know some of those lines,” the bear says. “Where from?” Barrett asks. “My mom used to sing a song like that,” he tells us. “But it wasn’t about a blood feud or a curse or anything like that. It was longer, and kind of different.”

He stepped backward into nothing and was gone. The temperature climbed back to normal. The ghost band struck up a slow, mournful zydeco tune. Remy stared at the empty air where his ancestor had been. “Well,” he said finally, “family reunions just got interesting.” Celeste rolled up, ruby eyes narrowed at the envelope in my hand. “Open it,” she said. I did. The words unfolded in fire and smoke, hanging in the air for everyone to read: Come to the Crossroads. Bring the key, the lock, and the ones who laugh at both.

Now that I was leaving my home. With a small smile I took his hand and followed him to the edge of the woods on the other side of the falls. He paused and looked at me. "little one this is the edge of your pack line. the neutral territory ends here. when you cross it's going to cut ties with your pack. It's painful, but bearable. Are you ready?" I nodded my head not trusting my words at the moment.

I had plans of bringing Meadow here, bending her over and fucking her from behind. But maybe… maybe this wasn’t so bad. I’d have a new one made. And we would christen that one. This bastard already ruined it with his fucking shoes anyway. “You were only trying to—” “To what? Impress me?” I scoffed. “You’ve been trying a little too hard lately, Cross. Haven’t you?” He blinked twice, looking to the side as if there was someone there who could help him. Save him. “I t-thought… I thought it was cleared. The confirmation came through.”

Bear looks at me, a glint of interest in his eyes. “Just under sixty thousand. I had nearly raised it all. I started buying four dresses and taking two back.” I had, but it wouldn’t have helped if what they were saying is true about Paul. Maybe I am just unlucky, and the course is set for my shitty life? “Right, I have something to sort. So here you go, little lamb.” I watch as Bear places down the dagger and pick it up. Then, moving, I slide it into the holster on my leg. “Gunner will take you home. We will all see you Saturday, tomorrow night.”

“We can start a business with that mouth.” “That's it! One more word and I'm driving into a tree!” His laughter roared in the car and a smile tugged at my lips. An easy going Cross was an interesting one. “So it doesn't matter if you're giving or receiving, as long as you're engaging in something sexual,” he pieced the dots together while I nodded. “Just so you know,” I turned to him and he wiggled his brows as he said, “You can go down on me anytime.”

His face— Drained of all color. "Ah," Lucien said lightly, glancing at him. "I almost forgot about you." Death Bear shuddered. That voice— To him— It wasn't just a voice. It was death. "Marshall Cross…" he choked out, his voice shaking. "Please… have mercy." He bowed his head low. Almost collapsing. "Spare me." "I'll go back to my country. I'll surrender." "I swear… I won't do this again." "My assets—everything I own—I'll give them away."

Cross continued in a more serious tone, “there’s something I’ve wanted to do for years.” “What is it?” Her curiosity was piqued despite her reluctance, her heart betraying her desire to know. Cross looked down at her, his expression softening into something deeper, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the playful banter. “I’ve always wanted to carry you in my arms, to care for you, to bathe you—the morning after being together. But I couldn’t back then. So let me do it now.”