A Christmas to Bear by Carina Wilder Page B

how heartless her ex had been, she’d managed to push him out of her mind with relative ease. But Lucian was different. It was his goodness and his assortment of flaws that made her gravitate towards him. She was no damsel in distress. She was strong, and wanted to rescue him.
    The next day she remained in her room, calling down for breakfast to be delivered. Around one p.m. the thought hit that she was being pathetic, waiting to see if he’d call or show.
    “No,” she said out loud, resolute in the afternoon light. “I have to learn to live without him. I did it for twenty–four years. May as well start again now.”
    Finally she rose to pack up her things for the flight which was to depart the following afternoon. She’d spend today exploring the town, doing some last–minute shopping.
    Her heart wasn’t in it as she wandered, and as late afternoon hit she found herself back at the coffee shop, leaning against the counter, where she saw the same young woman as she had on her previous visit.
    “Did you go to the carnival?” the barrista asked, her voice eager.
    “I did, yeah.”
    “Oh, good. I hope it was fun. And Lucian? You were asking about him. I’m glad to see you’re alive, if you actually ventured up to his place.”
    “Oh, I’m alive, at least on the outside.”
    The woman seemed to sense that she should shut up at that point and she handed Aria her hot chocolate before adding, “Hey, listen. Shifters are difficult. I should know. I’m one of them. But you know, when they fall they fall hard, in a way that people don’t always understand. And sometimes they don’t understand it themselves. Anyhow, good luck to you, whatever happens.”
    Aria walked away and sat at a counter by the window. If it was possible for a shifter to fall harder than she had, she pitied them. There was nothing as joyous and nothing as painful as love.
    After the hot chocolate had found its way into her empty stomach, she left to return to the inn. She knew perfectly well why she was doing so: to see if there was news of a certain polar bear. Nothing, it seemed, could be accomplished while she didn’t know if he’d been in touch. If he was thinking of her. If he cared just a little.
    But when she reached the front desk, there were no messages. It seemed that in this one regard, Lucian remained the essence of discipline. Infuriating, crazy–making discipline.
    “Strong, solitary, independent woman who doesn’t need a man.” Aria reminded herself of this as she threw herself onto her bed.
    It seemed that the previous night’s lack of sleep caught up with her then. When she awoke it was five a.m. She had several hours before she was to take the shuttle to the airport.
    That was enough time.

----

    She lay on the bed until the sky began to glow pink; the first traces of dawn. And with the rising sun illuminating the day, she threw on her clothes, wrapped herself in her coat and scarf and left the inn. She knew the way now, and within an hour she was approaching the glacier. Though she’d told him that the ball was in his court, she told herself, she’d simply lied. She had a say in this, didn’t she? How could she return home without at least saying good–bye? At the very least, it would be impolite.
    More internal arguments raged as she stepped out of the woods and beheld the glacier before her. She hiked towards the house at the base, determined that she was doing the right thing.
    At first she couldn’t see it; shadows cast from the low sun over the mountains seemed to conceal its whereabouts. But as she approached she realized that it wasn’t a trick of the sun at all.
    The house was gone.
    Aria found herself running now, hard, slick ice under her feet. What was going on?
    The house was just a pile of frozen rubble. Its remnants were unidentifiable, except to her discerning eye; she recognized chunks of the thick ice that had served as walls, scattered about like gravel. But it was as though someone with a