Chapter 56
“What’s this?”
“My can-do-everything handyman kit. I’m here to rearrange your spoons, forks, and knives, and build a treadmill for your fish so it can walk itself. Then I’m going to oil your cuticles, and oh yeah, climb into your nonexistent attic to get rid of the infestation of vampire bats. So, what do you think?”
“That you’re a very persistent bear.”
“Oh, and I brought you flowers. A bouquet of edelweiss. According to the Internet, they can represent a lot of things, chief among them the deepest love, and devotion.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“No, gorgeous, I’m talking about your devotion to those who are your own, your ability to love full throttle, no matter what the obstacle. I see that every time you’re with Silver—she wouldn’t be Valya’s Starlight if you hadn’t laid the foundation with your devotion and affection. Fierce heart, stubborn courage, and the most sophisticated death stare I’ve ever seen; my bear never had a chance against you.”
—“The Courtship of Arwen Mercant: A Story of Death Stares, Irresistible Charm, and a Romantic Night in Jail” as told by Pavel Stepyrev
ARWEN ENJOYED WALKING alongside his bear as the lights of Moscow turned the river into a midnight rainbow, the air crisp but not too cold—not with Pavel’s body heat next to his and Pavel’s arm around his waist.
Arwen was taller by a few inches; it would’ve made more logical sense for him to hook his arm over Pavel’s shoulders. But this was what felt natural. Because Arwen’s lover was a bear with a protective streak a mile wide and Arwen was an empath who liked being in his bear’s warm embrace.
He smiled as he fixed a cuff link on his shirt.
“What’s so funny?” Pavel’s fingers played over Arwen’s hip as he took another lick of his ice cream cone. He’d offered Arwen as many licks as he wanted, at the reasonable price of a kiss for a lick.
“Oh, my cuff links reminded me of that day you turned up to take care of my vampire bat infestation.” The links were in the shape of edelweiss blooms, a gift from Pavel. Because his brash bear lover knew how to take care of his person.
Pavel’s dimples flashed. “I laughed for a good ten minutes after I got that message.”
“I had washing my shoelaces and color-coordinating the weeds in the garden in reserve.” Because at some point, coming up with progressively more preposterous excuses to decline Pavel’s invitations to go out had turned into a flirtation that made his stomach flutter and his toes curl.
He’d become glued to his phone, waiting for his bear’s next message.
“Those are good.” Pavel chuckled. “Too bad you never got to use them.”
Arwen hadn’t had that chance because after the words Pavel had given him—fierce heart, stubborn courage; ability to love full throttle—he’d been a mess with no defenses left.
He was an E. He knew his Pasha bear had meant every single word and that he saw Arwen in a way that was far beyond skin and bone and lust. Not just that, but he valued who Arwen was as a person and as an E, Pavel’s admiration and respect for him a caress of plush fur over his empathic senses.
Arwen’s world had shifted on its axis, as an emotion potent and passionate took the place of their playful flirtation. Used to the sly machinations of the PsyNet, he’d been afraid it was a mirage, a pretty game. He hadn’t understood his bear then. Blunt, honest, wild, Pavel Stepyrev had never treated Arwen’s heart with anything but tender care.
All soft and happy inside as they turned around to start making their way back to their borrowed residence, he took out his phone.
“Nightly check-in on your list?” Pavel finished off the last bit of his cone in a crisp crunch.
“I asked Canto if he wanted me to drop by and cook him a meal or two since I know he’s alone this week with Payal on that emergency trip to Singapore. He never eats well when they’re apart. Just checking on his reply.”
Leaning in, Pavel peered unashamedly at Arwen’s phone screen . . . and chuckled. “ ‘Dear Arwen,’ ” he read out, “ ‘I still have seventeen frozen meals from your last meal prep session. And the bears keep dropping off random cakes. I found a fucking pavlova on the deck this morning. What do I need with a pavlova? No goddamn peace around here.’ ”
Smile on his lips, Pavel pressed a kiss to Arwen’s cheek. “You’re good at taking care of your people. Even ungrateful grumps like your cousin. Want me to beat him up for you?”
Mollified, Arwen said, “No, he’s safe from your wrath today.” Because that wasn’t the end of Canto’s message.
Below the grumpfest were the words: Thank you for the reminder to eat, little cousin. I do actually forget when Payal isn’t here. Because when Payal was there, Canto was focused on taking care of her—as she was in reverse. They were adorable. Two outward hard-asses who’d found their perfect match.
Canto had also added: I’m going to try a piece of that ludicrous pavlova. It’s got sliced kiwi on top of it! Where the hell did the bears get sliced kiwi, that’s what I want to know.
Grinning as he read that part of the message out loud to an amused Pavel, Arwen quickly tapped back a reply, then scrolled on. Lazily content by his side, his presence that of a satisfied bear, Pavel listened as Arwen gave him updates on the others on what Pavel had named “The List.”
“My little cousin—the one you met two weeks ago? She doesn’t know what to study at university. I’m going to help her apply for a couple of work-study programs, help her figure out her path.”
Pavel squeezed his waist, his expression tender when their eyes met. “I love how you love your people, moy svetlyi luchik.”
Arwen was used to Pavel’s affectionate words, but his heart went to mush every time his bear called him his ray of light. Leaning down, Arwen peppered his face with kisses.
Deep grooves in Pavel’s cheeks, his love for Arwen a bear’s hug.
Arwen loved so much about Pavel, but his generosity with Arwen’s heart was a big part of it. Arwen didn’t know how to be any other way, how not to “collect” people as Grandmother put it, and to look after them.
While Pavel was possessive, had actually growled at those who’d thought to hit on Arwen, he’d never once been possessive about Arwen’s empathic heart. And it wasn’t a case of him passively accepting that part of Arwen—no, his Pasha bear actively helped Arwen look after his people.
Whether that was by dropping off care packages when Arwen couldn’t, or by checking in on certain individuals when Arwen was out of town. He’d even once put on his “big boy pants”—his own words—and bearded Ena in her den after Arwen’s grandmother had gone under for a touch too long for Arwen’s liking, while Arwen was on an educational retreat with fellow empaths.
“Your grandmother is flat-out terrifying,” Pavel had said afterward, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. “When she offered me tea, I was pretty sure she was going to poison me. She invited me to play a game of chess instead—and beat my ass to all hell. Brutal, man, brutal.”
Arwen, meanwhile, had received a message from his grandmother in the aftermath: You’re both invited to the Sea House in a week’s time, after your return from the retreat. Tell your bear that the dress code is formal—and by formal, I do not mean a new T-shirt.
Arwen had pumped his fist in the air like a damn wind-up toy. Invitations to the Sea House were the highest possible honor in their family. His bighearted bear had done good.
“Come on, sweet stuff,” Pasha said now, his cheeks still creased from the impact of the kiss storm. “You can pet me more at home.”
Arwen had every intention of doing exactly that, but as a shirtless and shoeless Pavel wandered out of the guest room and into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, he found himself standing there with his designer shirt in his hands, and the words of others running through his head.
You helped me feel real, Arwen. At a time when I felt the ghost.
Thank you, little brother.
We wouldn’t be the family we are without you. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating your own gifts because they’re different from ours.
Our family is what it is because of your heart, grandchild of mine. That’s why we protect it so fiercely. Because it has been our salvation.
I love how you love your people, moy svetlyi luchik.
“Hey.” Pavel stood in the doorway, a glass of water in hand. “Why so serious?” Walking over, he placed the glass on the bedstand on Arwen’s side of the bed, then reached up to rub at his frown lines.
“I just figured it out,” Arwen said, dropping the shirt to the bed.