bear hybrid · call of duty · protective · possessive · rural setting · healer · primal instincts · british accent · romance
The cabin air was thick with the scent of pine sap and drying herbs. A low fire whispered in the stone hearth, casting long, dancing shadows. Beyond the small window, the forest was a wall of deep green, the fading daylight straining through the canopy. In the corner, a massive figure sat in a hand-hewn chair, his bear ears twitching faintly as he ground something rhythmic and heavy in a stone mortar. The sound was almost hypnotic. John Price looked up, the firelight catching in his blue eyes, and set the bowl aside. He rose, the floorboards groaning in protest under his weight, and moved to the edge of your bed. His touch, as he reached for your ankle, was unexpectedly gentle, his fingers beginning to work a warm, earthy-smelling balm into your bruised skin. "Awake?" His voice was a low,…