by Sable Sylvan
“The last male?” asked Eleanor, finishing up her salmon and washing it down with the champagne. “Aren’t shifters usually part of big families?”
“I don’t know what happened, but the Asher line has grown weaker and weaker over the generations,” explained Aspen. “I don’t have any siblings...and my parents worked hard to have me. If I don’t find my fated mate, I’ll be the last of the Ashers.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” said Eleanor.
“You’re telling me...but I have a feeling that after tonight, there won’t be any more pressure,” said Aspen, taking Eleanor by the hand and helping her off her bar seat. “Eleanor...I’m going to ask you again. Do you trust me?”
Eleanor looked at Aspen: he was a billionaire, but the most down to earth man she’d ever met, maybe because he wasn’t just a man, he was a bear as well. “Yes...I trust you.”
Chapter Four
“Then come on,” said Aspen. “I have something I want to show you, in private.” Aspen left the dishes on the counter and led Eleanor through the house, leading her through the halls that were lined with portraits of various men Aspen resembled...and out, through an entrance usually used by servants, to the gardens. They were below the balcony where they’d first met, the gardens lit very dimly and the hedges dark.
“The labyrinth should give us some privacy,” said Aspen. “Shall we?”
Eleanor looked into the hedges. The labyrinth looked dark and scary. “I don’t know, there aren’t any lights on in the maze,” said Eleanor.
“Bears have excellent night vision, like most shifters,” said Aspen. “Do you trust me?”
Eleanor gulped. “Yes. Let’s do this.” She was nervous but Aspen’s hands made her feel safe, because whatever was in that labyrinth couldn’t stand up to the bear that was protecting her. He’d been able to stand up to her stepsisters: who or what could be scarier than them?
Although the labyrinth looked pitch black to Eleanor, one of the few humans who had been in the labyrinth in the last decade, to Aspen, the glade was only as dim as the woods at twilight, as the shifter had enhanced night vision, given that bears were highly nocturnal creatures. Eleanor’s shoes were surprisingly comfortable as she walked through the labyrinth, given that the shoes had special gel padding that were infused with a mix of glitter and frosted shimmer dust giving them a little extra sparkle. Aspen walked with Ella through the maze: a cobblestone path led through the hedges and Aspen intentionally found a spot that ended in a dead end.
“I want to show you something, but I don’t know how you’re going to react,” said Aspen, turning to look at Eleanor. “So please, don’t run when you see it...and if it scares you away, let me walk you out of the maze.”
“Well, I wasn’t scared before, but thanks for the warning,” said Eleanor.
Aspen took off his white jacket and gave it to Eleanor to hold. He removed his white tie and carefully unbuttoned his dress shirt, and pulled it aside. Nothing could have prepared Eleanor for what she was about to see.
On Aspen’s chest was a mark: a red letter, the letter L, written in Gothic script, illuminated with swirls of skin so yellow they looked gold. The letter was outlined in black. Ella looked closer: she had seen her sibling’s plain looking mate marks, dollar signs, back at the house a few times when they’d had to share the bathroom, but she’d never thought a mate mark could be this elaborate.
“Your mate mark...” started Eleanor as she ran her hands over the letter on his chest. The letter on the mark was raised, like a callus and the bear marks on Aspen’s hands, the swirls textured like scars. “I’ve never seen one in person before.”
“It’s why I didn’t tell you before,” said Aspen. “I know what this mark means, Ella: it means that I’m meant to be with you. I’ve wondered what this could possibly mean for the longest time: is it a scarlet letter? Am I cursed, being punished for God only knows what? But then, when I met you...I felt something here.” Aspen pressed Eleanor’s palm flat against his heart.
“I knew, Ella, from the moment I met you, that you were the one,” said Aspen, taking Eleanor’s hand in his, and turning it over in his hand: Eleanor didn’t have nail polish on like the other women at the Asher Ball and there were some rough spots from hard work, something most of the other wealthy shifters knew nothing about.
“Eleanor,” said Eleanor, taking a deep breath as she revealed her real name to Aspen. “My name...my name is Eleanor.”
“You’re always going to be Ella to me,” said Aspen softly. “Ella, Ella...Eleanor, what a beautiful name, for such a beautiful girl.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Aspen? If you knew this whole time?” said Eleanor.
“I didn’t want to scare you away. I needed to wait for the right moment to let you know that you were my fated mate,” said Aspen. “You’re not a shifter: there’s some things you just won’t get, and that’s okay...but it means that I need to hold back the bear inside me, the bear that tells me that you’re the woman I’m meant to be with.”
“But Aspen...I’m...well, I’m not like you,” said Eleanor.
“Ella, I don’t care that you’re a human,” said Aspen, pulling her back towards him and wrapping a strong arm around her waist. “I care that you’re smart, and funny, and caring and kind. The last two are especially hard to find in my world.”
“The world of jetsetters and industry barons?” asked Eleanor.
“Yes, and the world of shifters,” said Aspen. “There’s some out there that aren’t able to keep their bear at bay.”
“And you can, all the time?” said Eleanor.
“I can hold my bear back long enough to attend these balls,” said Aspen. “But I can’t hold it back when the ones I loved need the bear to come out.”
“And where would you rather be, Mr. Bear?” asked Eleanor softly.
“The Asher family is a lumber family, and that means that we own tree farms,” explained Aspen. “And we let our tree farms turn into forests before we chop them down. I’m usually supervising the work in those forests, but I take a hands-on approach with my lumber crews and there’s nothing more thrilling than helping my men fell trees that make these buildings look like dollhouses. I would take any of those artificial forests over this concrete jungle, and even being out here in the hedges makes me feel better than I feel in a stuffy ballroom...but the wild, wild woods, that’s where I belong, Eleanor: I’ll always be a bear. Can you accept that?”
“Of course I can, Aspen,” said Eleanor, pulling Aspen close for a kiss on the lips. “I’d even accept you if you were human.”
“Oh, Eleanor, you always know what to say to make me feel better,” said Aspen.
“Always? We’ve only known each other for a few hours,” said Eleanor.
“Of course...if you wanted, we could talk somewhere a little more...private,” whispered Aspen pulling Eleanor in close.
“I’d like that,” said Eleanor as Aspen led her through the maze and then reached into the hedges, opening a secret door which led to a glade filled with gorgeous flowers that made Eleanor gasp.
The entire glade was lit by glowing flowers, flowers which gave off pale pastel lights, the petals of the flowers emitting the light. A cast iron bench sat in the center of the garden, the circle around the bench the only section of the glade that wasn’t covered in the unearthly wildflowers. “No frikkin’ way,” said Eleanor, bending down to look at the flowers. “This is so cool! What are they? Magic?”
Aspen laughed. “Not magic: science. Asher Lumber experimented with creating bioluminescent plants: we experimented with small plants at first.”
“Bioluminescent? Why?” asked Eleanor. “People want glow in the dark wood?”
“It was meant for...government applications,” said Aspen. “But I guess the feds decided glow in the dark masking tape was more their style. Anyways, the lab made flowers too, and I planted them here. One of my mother’s gardeners takes care of them when I’m gone, but when I visit, I tend to th
em myself...they’re one of the few things that brings me back to this place.”
“You don’t like the Asher Manor?” asked Eleanor. “It seems perfect.”
“It is perfect...except for one thing,” said Aspen. “I have nobody to share it with. I would do anything to find Mrs. Right, the woman who’d give me cubs who would pitter patter down the halls for breakfast, but hey: we’ve all got our stupid dreams, right?”
“I don’t think your dream is stupid,” said Eleanor.
“Because you’re different, Ella,” said Aspen. “Everyone else tells me that I should focus on business or finding a suitable mate, but maybe I don’t want what society tells me is suitable: maybe I want to find the woman who makes me feel the way I’ve longed to feel my whole life. I’m one of the last of my friends to remain unmarried this long. I’m twenty-five and still haven’t found the one, Ella. Or at least, before tonight...I hadn’t.”
“You really think I’m the one, don’t you?” asked Eleanor with a sigh. She was sure that Aspen was wrong.
“If I didn’t think you were the one, I wouldn’t have showed you this place,” said Aspen, taking Eleanor’s hand in his. “I’ve never taken another woman here but I’ve always dreamed of the night I would.”
“And now that I’m here?” asked Eleanor, looking up into Aspen’s eyes. She hadn’t been out of Seattle in months, hadn’t seen the pure night sky in years, as the Seattle sky was smoggy and lit by bright street lamps, the light pollution strong enough to block out the lights of the sky even from the inside of the labyrinth, but the stars seemed to live in Aspen’s twinkling eyes, pinpoints of light brightening his eyes before they flashed at Eleanor.
“Now that you’re here, there’s something I want to show you,” said Aspen, leading Eleanor to a corner of the garden, to a bush she hadn’t noticed before: green stems and brown thorns birthed bright roses. The edges of each petal were lined in red glowing light, and when Eleanor looked more closely, she could see that the glowing substance seemed to drip down the petals through small veins, making each petal take on a gradient style glow, bright at the edges on top and dark at the base.
“I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous,” said Eleanor.
Aspen looked over the petite curvy girl: in the ball gown with glass slippers, Ella looked like an absolute princess, but it was her behavior which had proved to him that she was a true lady, unlike half the women at the Asher Ball. “I have,” said Aspen, pulling Eleanor close and pressing his lips to hers, her petal-soft lips as pink as any wildflower, and he pulled her up and close, the way he hadn’t been able to when there had been people watching.
Being alone with Eleanor had confirmed to him that she had to be the one: no other woman had an appreciation for the beauty of nature like she did, and although she’d thought that the scientific process used to create the flowers was magical, the real magic was the way that her eyes lit up when she saw the glade for the first time. Aspen wanted to show Eleanor so many more amazing things, as long as she’d glow each time. She wasn’t a shifter, but her heart glowed just as bright as his mate mark would...as long as Eleanor was actually his fated mate.
Aspen pulled away and looked back at the bush. “I’d cut you one to take home, but they can’t glow when they’re cut,” said Aspen.
“Because cutting them kills them,” said Eleanor. “They’re better living, glowing. I’m glad you showed me this, Aspen...this is amazing. Your whole life is amazing, but you’re so humble and gentle.”
“Let me show you something really cool,” said Aspen. “Close your eyes.”
“Okay,” said Eleanor, and Aspen took her by the hand and gently led her out of the corner of the garden and towards the cast iron bench, sitting her down on the cold metal while he went through the garden.
“No peeking,” he ordered.
“Of course not,” said Eleanor, keeping her eyes closed.
Aspen walked back to the beautiful woman and pressed something into her hands. “You can look now,” he said.
Eleanor opened her eyes. Aspen had picked some dandelions from the garden and placed them in her hands. The dandelions were in their puffy stage, no longer yellow and lacy but white and fluffy like a polar bear’s fur, and the fluff glowed, glowing brightest at the bottom, where the small seed, filled with life and love, was glowing the strongest. “Why are they still glowing?” she asked. “I thought you couldn’t pick flowers without killing them.”
“The dandelions have already made their seeds,” explained Aspen. “The fluffy bit used to be part of the flower, and the seeds are the brown bits at the end of the fluff. The water in the seeds is powering the rest of the fluff, letting it glow, because the seeds don’t need the stem anymore. They just need someone to blow on them.”
“I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” said Eleanor, rolling the dandelion stem between her fingers, making the puffball let out a few glowing seeds which the light breeze caught and carried up and away.
“Let’s share these seeds with the world, and see if they bring other people happiness the way that they brought it to us,” said Aspen. “Maybe some couple, some where, will see a patch of glowing dandelions, and they’ll puff on the seeds too, and the world will be covered with little stars, little dandelion puffs for people to blow on.”
“Alright, on three,” said Eleanor. She held her puff up to her lips. “One...two...three!” Eleanor blew hard and the puff broke up, the small seeds carried away on the wind, glowing as they trailed through the darkness, the closest thing to stars that Eleanor had seen in Seattle, after Aspen’s bright eyes.
Aspen’s ears pricked up as he heard another couple in the labyrinth giggling. “We’re not as alone as I hoped,” said Aspen, the bear in him roaring, wanting to burst out of the secret glade and tear the interlopers apart. Aspen, the man and the more charismatic of the pair, calmed the bear: this wasn’t the woods, where every errant sound could be an enemy. There were no enemies in these hedges, just drunk twenty-somethings hooking up among the begonias and hyacinths.
“Do you want to go back into the manor then?” asked Eleanor.
“No...that won’t be necessary,” said Aspen. “I want to show you something, but you’re going to have trust me.”
“Of course I trust you, Aspen,” said Eleanor.
“Then get up,” ordered Aspen, “And watch out.”
Chapter Five
Eleanor got up and watched as Aspen moved the cast iron bench aside with ease, exposing the grass below the bench that was a paler color. In the center of the grass was a sunken door covered in realistic fake grass. Aspen opened the door and revealed a staircase, flipping a switch before he helped Eleanor down the stairs first.
“What is this place?” asked Eleanor, looking around the room. The walls were absinthe green with a forest damask pattern and hardwood paneling covered the lower half of the walls. A large dark carved wood bed sat by one wall, its headboard against the wall, and the sheets were in shades of gold. Various antique pieces of furniture made of dark wood, such as desks and chairs, were in the room, but the bed was the centerpiece.
“I’ve never a brought a woman here before,” said Aspen, closing the door to the glade behind him and dimming the lights. “But...this is one of my private rooms. It’s a secret: it used to be the Asher Manor’s bomb shelter, during the Great War, but I had it repurposed in my teen years so I could have a place to go and be alone with my thoughts.”
“It’s gorgeous down here, if a bit dusty,” joked Eleanor. “It’s better than the tree house I had in my backyard as a kid.”
“Did you spend a lot of time in your tree house?” asked Aspen.
“Yeah...but let’s not talk about me,” said Eleanor, sitting down on the bed. She felt the embroidery and looked at it, trying to discern a pattern.
“Why not?” asked Aspen, sitting next to Eleanor and pressing the back of his hand to her cheek, pushing her to look at him. “Ella, I want to know more about you.”
&nbs
p; “That’ll just...ruin the magic,” said Eleanor, looking away.
“What magic?” asked Aspen, moving to her other side, so she couldn’t escape his gaze. “What we have is special, but it’s not what I’d call magic: it’s fate, Ella. And...if you’re my fated mate, I want to know everything there is to know about you, from your favorite foods to the way you feel when you look at the stars on a clear night.”
“And if I’m not your fated mate?” asked Eleanor, finally looking up at Aspen, giving him a small, sad smile.
“Then I have half a mind to stop searching for one, because I honestly can’t imagine myself with anyone but you,” said Aspen, brushing his lips against Eleanor and giving her a soft, deep kiss on the cheek, the sort of kiss that one knows is the seal to a promise. “You don’t judge me for being rich: women either want me for my money or they make a bunch of assumptions that aren’t true, and they don’t give me a chance to show that I’m not just some douchebag with a black card. You’re different, Eleanor: you didn’t know who I was, and when you learned what I was, you didn’t change your mind about me.”
“Aspen...I’m not a rich girl,” said Eleanor. “I think you should at least know that. I don’t want to lead you on.”
“I knew,” said Aspen, holding Eleanor’s hands in his, both hands unlike the soft, manicured hands of the partygoers, the hands of people who had seen the world. “I know. Eleanor, you’re more than just a girl, you’re a princess, and you’re my princess.”
Aspen held Eleanor’s hand up to his mouth again, but this time, the kiss on the back of her hand was deeper, stronger, and it sent a shock of electricity through Eleanor’s body. He made a trail of kisses along her arm, until he reached her lace covered shoulders, and he brushed his lips over the lace until he reached her neck. “Do you trust me?” Aspen whispered the question into Eleanor’s ear and she could feel his hot breath on her neck.
“Yes,” whispered Eleanor, pulling Aspen so his head was in the crook of her neck. “Yes, Aspen.”
