The Bear Prince: A BBW Bear Shifter Billionaire Paranormal Romance Novella (Seattle's Billionaire Bears Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  Crystal turned to Damien and looked him over properly. Damien smiled. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I...I don’t know,” said Crystal softly. “Damien...it’s hard imagining you as anyone but Damien Michaels, the man that I...”

  “That you what?” asked Damien.

  “That I fell in love with,” said Crystal. “Damien Dixon, billionaire were-bear...that’s not a name or a man I know.”

  “It can be, if you give me a second chance,” said Damien.

  “I can’t give you a second chance without knowing if you’re going to lie again,” said Crystal. “You lied to me, Damien. You told me you were someone other than who you are.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” said Damien. “It’s just...”

  “It’s just what?” asked Crystal.

  “It’s just...do you want to hear the whole story?” asked Damien. “From my side?”

  “Sure, I’m a reporter, I’m supposed to be unbiased,” said Crystal. “But I’ll be the judge of whether or not your story seems more fact than fiction. So, Damien...what’s the scoop?”

  “The day you met me, at the Manor...I was technically doing some garden work,” said Damien. “Delaina...she wasn’t supposed to bring you to the labyrinth. You see, the Manor’s under construction, so she had to change her usual tour route. That’s why I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  “Why does that matter?” asked Crystal.

  “Because, you know, I was shirtless,” said Damien. “Well, I guess you don’t know...As you saw, the Ashers and the Dixons, they’re an illustrious family, and more importantly, a shifter clan full of bachelor bears. At least, the clan was full of bachelors. As the number of eligible bachelors has dwindled, with my cousins and brothers finding mates, the number of people trying to get exclusive photos of the bachelors has gone up. A picture of one of us with a date? That might get someone...ten thousand dollars from a tabloid, and that’s being generous. But a picture of our naked chests? That’s priceless.”

  “Because of the mate marks,” said Crystal.

  “So you’ve been filled in,” said Damien.

  “My friend...the one that sent me the pics of us from the tabloid? She said that shifters have these things called mate marks, and that, when a shifter meets their true love, their ‘fated mate’, the mark undergoes a transformation of some kind,” said Crystal. “Sometimes it glows, or it changes permanently, or something.”

  “And you had no idea about this before?” said Damien.

  “Not a clue,” said Crystal. “I don’t date a lot, Damien...I made an exception for you, and it wasn’t just because you had an invite to the ball.”

  “About that invite...” started Damien.

  “I’ll go with you, because I promised to,” said Crystal. “And because I need to go for work. But I can’t guarantee that things are just...going to go back to normal.”

  “I understand that, and that’s why I talked to Delaina about what happened,” said Damien. He opened the messenger bag next to him. It was empty...except for a large black box. He passed it across the table to Crystal.

  Crystal opened the black velvet box. Inside, nestled in black protective foam, was an invitation, the same kind as the one she’d lost down the well, that Damien had retrieved for her. She looked up at Damien. “Damien...I don’t understand,” said Crystal.

  “I talked to Delaina, and got you a replacement invitation,” said Damien. “It’s what I should’ve done in the first place. It was no trouble, they have tons of replacements in the office, Delaina just doesn’t like having to send them out and send an intern to the post office while she needs as many hands on deck as possible. I told her I’d deliver it myself. Of course, if you manage to lose this one too, you have my number, so I can get you another.”

  Crystal closed the box...and pushed it back across the table. “Damien. I might be mad at you, but I’m still going to the ball with you,” said Crystal. “And frankly, the fact you’d even go and get me yet another invitation shows that you’ve earned my forgiveness. I just...I need you not to lie to me anymore, or keep any more secrets from me. You have no idea what a terrible week I’ve had. I have had to work from home for the last three days because every time I go out during daylight hours, I get swamped by paparazzi. I can’t change my number because I need it for work, but I’ve had to block a lot of calls. I’m not being taken seriously as a reporter for the ball because people think I got the invite by boning you, which, I guess, until a few minutes ago, was technically almost true. My cards are on the table, where are yours?”

  “Alright, here it goes,” said Damien. “So, where was I...oh, yes, the first time we met. I was surprised to see you because nobody was supposed to be back in the gardens except for official Manor personnel. I work for the Asher Lumber Company, but my job involves a lot of travel, so I am not usually around the mansion. The Asher Lumber Company, as you know, is the largest lumber company in the Pacific Northwest, and I work with my cousin, Thorne Asher, in Michigan, when I’m not traveling. However, he’s found his mate, Rose, and they’re expecting, so I decided to start working out of the Seattle office because I needed to let them have their space. There isn’t a lot to do up here sometimes, so I was in a flex position, and helped out where needed, when needed. That means I might be in the boardroom one day, or at the manor the next. I do it all, from negotiating deals alongside my cousins to helping our grand-aunt around her house. That particular day, I was helping with the gardening. How often is it that there’s great weather in Seattle of all places? I wanted to get some sun.”

  “Keep it moving,” said Crystal.

  “Fine, fine,” said Damien. “Anyway. I was shirtless because I was actually gardening. And I saw you, and was curious, because you shouldn’t’ve been back there. Then, your camera went off. I was worried you were paparazzi, so I went over, hoping you’d reveal that you were trying to get pictures of me...but when you showed me your camera and deleted the picture with me in it, I had a feeling you weren’t paparazzi at all, but of course, I had to be sure. That’s why I gave you the fake name, Damien Michaels. It’s not really a fake name...my middle name is Michael. I took you on that first date in a very controlled environment so that I could see if what we had was real, in private.”

  “A...controlled environment?” asked Crystal.

  “That fair we went to...I sort of...uh...had it set up for just the two of us,” said Damien, blushing. “I didn’t want us to get bothered by paparazzi, and I wanted a chance to really get to know you. The people working there, all hired by me, which is why I had those tickets to use as currency, so you wouldn’t have to pay for anything.”

  “You paid to set up a whole carnival just for me? For one date?” asked Crystal. “Damien, that must be the most wasteful thing I’ve ever—”

  “The rest of the weekend, it was free for local families,” said Damien. “It wasn’t just for us. Just, that night, the first night, we were the only people there, other than some families from a battered women’s charity who were able to go there for free for a night of fun.”

  “That’s...actually amazingly sweet,” said Crystal. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth after that date?”

  “The right time never came up,” said Damien. “I was going to tell you after the second date, because I was worried we’d be seen by paparazzi, and I didn’t want you to learn about me from the papers, but I guess that the paparazzi did get a photo of us, I just didn’t see a camera flash go off. Then, in Port Jameson, the plan was to tell you at the movie in the park...but, well, you know what happened there.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Crystal. “Why didn’t you tell me after your mate mark flashed?”

  “Because I was really, really tired,” said Damien. “And I’m not kidding, I had taken you out for a full day of activities, I fought off those scum lords, plus we’d mated. I was seriously pooped.”

  “So...the mate mark,” said Crystal. “That’s the elephant in the room, isn’t i
t?”

  “It is,” said Damien. “But, I’m not human, so I’ll let you ask the questions. What do you want to know?”

  “First of all, it’s not a tattoo, that is your mate mark?” asked Crystal.

  “That’s right,” said Damien. “It showed up when I turned eighteen.”

  “And it’s supposed to tell you who you are supposed to be in love with...forever?” asked Crystal.

  “It’s called a fated mate,” said Damien. “Whoever my fated mate is, that’s my true love.”

  “And your mark...it’s never...done that thing, with anyone else before?” asked Crystal.

  “One, no. Two, if it had, I wouldn’t have slept with anyone but that person after that,” said Damien. “My mark hasn’t been the same since we had sex that night. The black lines are now mostly white. It changed, Crystal, because...you changed me.”

  “What does your mate mark mean?” asked Crystal.

  “It’s a star lily, just like the tattoo on your chest,” said Damien.

  “Not that, the weird lines,” said Crystal. “What’s the deal with that?”

  “Don’t you see, Crystal?” asked Damien. “Did you really not ever see before?” Damien loosened his tie and undid the top three buttons on his shirt, exposing part of his chest to Crystal. The lines were still white, and if anything, paler than they were before.

  “See what?” asked Crystal.

  “Crystal...the lines are like the facets on a gem, like the facets...on a crystal,” said Damien. “The mate mark is a crystal...shaped like a star lily.”

  Crystal moved her tea and leaned over the table, opening Damien’s shirt. The coffee shop was nearly empty and the wait staff didn’t care what was going on as long as they got paid. Crystal looked at the mark over Damien’s chest. There were three petals arranged in a triangular shape, and another layer of three petals, nestled beneath the top three petals, so that there was a bottom petal between each of the top petals and its neighbor...but the lifework defining the petals, dividing each petal into equal, identical section among each grouping of petals...it really was a crystal-like form. Since Crystal had last seen Damien’s full chest, it had changed. Not only were the lines white, but the facets of the crystal were varying shades of skin, some lighter, some darker, making the mark really look like a three-dimensional crystal.

  “Did you know? The whole time?” asked Crystal.

  “Ever since you told me your name,” said Damien. “The fact your tattoo matches my mark, well, that just sealed the deal.”

  “So what exactly does us being fated mates mean?” asked Crystal.

  “It means...I’ll never find another woman I’ll want as much as I want you, that I’ll be faithful to you forever, that you will forever be the light of my life and my true love, from the moment we met to the moment I pass from this earth,” promised Damien. “It’s a bond stronger than almost any other...so Crystal...are you willing to see if this bear is really meant to be your prince?”

  “Damien...I forgive you, and I will,” said Crystal, wiping a tear from her eye. “As long as you promise me there won’t be any more secrets.”

  “Done...now let’s get you some clothes. We’ve got a ball to attend,” said Damien. He got up from the booth and left a twenty on the table before walking out the door with Crystal.

  Chapter Nine

  The next week, things didn’t quite calm down. Crystal’s editor let her work from home, given the situation, as there were paparazzi outside their office daily, and the last thing the editor wanted was that nonsense coming anywhere closer to her desk. After their talk on Wednesday, Damien brought Crystal over to a fancy store for private fittings for a dress. As it was last minute, Crystal had to wear something premade that could be tailored to her body, but they found something to work with her body type and complexion easily, with shoes and jewelry to match. On Thursday, Crystal worked on figuring out her strategy for the ball with Damien, and on Friday, he was at her doorstep like he had been on their first two dates, flowers in hand.

  Crystal opened the door and couldn’t help but laugh. Damien was of course wearing a tuxedo, as the ball was very formal, but against her relatively plain apartment, he really stood out.

  “I take it I look good?” said Damien.

  “You look great,” said Crystal. “It’s just, I don’t think anyone has ever worn a tuxedo in this apartment before.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” said Damien. He looked over Crystal: the dress that she’d selected was perfect. It was a bright, beautiful green, perfect for an end of the summer ball, and she was wearing matching green satin pumps. The matching look was perfect for this ball, and the piece that pulled it all together? A gorgeous plain silver necklace...that Damien had seen Crystal ogle down in Port Jameson, which he’d picked up for her when she hadn’t been looking. It was a symbol that linked their past with their present and their future.

  Damien walked Crystal downstairs, excited to get to show her off to everyone at the ball, and ushered her into a waiting limo. There was paparazzi outside her apartment, but Crystal had been briefed by Delaina to just walk by them with a smile, not to put her hands in her face or anything. People would stare. People would take photos. Those people could frankly suck it, because Crystal was the one who had nabbed the most eligible bachelor and the juiciest scoop in all of Seattle.

  The limo was familiar. Damien poured Crystal a glass of sparkling water. She sipped the water and said to Damien, “This is going to sound weird...but...I have déjà vu, like I’ve been here before or something.”

  “Probably because this is Niles’ car and he’s driving us again,” said Damien.

  “That’s how I knew his name. Wait. Niles, like, the same Niles that drove me from Port Jameson to Seattle?” asked Crystal.

  “The very one and the same,” said the driver, as he rolled down the divider. “You know, this thing, it keeps out light, but not noise. How’re you doing, Crystal?”

  “Niles! So I had met you before that day,” said Crystal. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you...but why were you down in Port Jameson?”

  “It’s a long story, miss, and this’ll be a rather short ride,” said Niles. “I promise, I’ll tell you later.”

  “Later tonight?” asked Crystal.

  “Not exactly,” said Damien. “See...I was thinking, you might want to stay at my place tonight. After all, you are going to be pretty tired...”

  “Say no more,” said Crystal. “I’m looking forward to the sleepover, almost more than the ball.”

  “Are you excited?” asked Damien.

  “Part of me is...the professional side, at least,” said Crystal. “Another part of me is nervous, because I’m going not just as a reporter, but as your frikkin’ girlfriend...and yet another part of me is calm, because if we’re fated mates, then no matter what happens tonight, everything is gonna be okay.”

  “That’s exactly the right attitude to have,” said Damien, gripping Crystal’s hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  In fifteen minutes, Niles pulled up to the Manor. As they waited their turn in the line of cars, Crystal gulped. She looked in her mirror to make sure her hair and makeup was red carpet ready, as there was literally a red carpet outside the manor. Damien had had a makeup artist and hair stylist go by her apartment to make her look gala ready, but looking out at the tall shifter women in their five inch heels and plunging necklines, she all of a sudden felt terribly out of place as the only curvy human in the entire joint.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Crystal said.

  “Crystal, you’ve gotta do this, not for me, not for you, but for your career,” said Damien, holding onto Crystal’s hands. “Trust me. The carpet’s the worst part. Just smile and wave, and pretend everyone’s in their underwear.”

  “That’s not helpful when everyone out there looks like a frikkin’ lingerie model!” said Crystal.

  “Listen. We don’t have to do it. But it’ll be a lot wo
rse if we don’t,” said Damien. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put you in a situation where I thought you’d be embarrassed. You look amazing. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. That carpet...it’s a five-minute stroll you can either treat as a walk of shame, or as a stride of pride. So which one will it be?”

  “Pride,” said Crystal. “Yeah. Pride. I’m Crystal Frikkin’ Wordsworth.”

  “That’s right, you are, and you’re frikkin’ bad ass, so let’s go show these people how a real woman enters a ball,” said Damien. The car lurched forward, and it was their turn on the runway.

  Damien got out of the car first and he held the door open for Crystal who daintily exited the vehicle before taking Damien’s arm. She waved with one hand and matched Damien’s waving rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, as the paparazzi who couldn’t go past the technically private sidewalk into the very much private property took lots of quick pics, flash on of course, of the couple. They started walking, and Crystal matched her pace with Damien, all the time making sure to smile, to wave, and to most of all, not run screaming from the media circus...

  And then, nearly as quickly as it had started, it ended. They were inside the manor, and there wasn’t a camera in sight. Crystal let out a slow deep breath. “Whew,” she said audibly. “That was really something.”

  “Now can you see why this isn’t exactly a press friendly event?” asked Damien.

  “I can,” said Crystal. “But, speaking of that...given that I am the press for this event, where am I supposed to go? Delaina told me there should be a table set up between some pillars, but she also said that the location might be changed...”

  “That’s a good question...and I see just the cat to answer it,” said Damien, waving at a tall blonde that Crystal recognized. Delaina, wearing a plain black dress, with black heels, was wearing an outfit similar to the one she’d worn when she’d shown Crystal around the property that fateful day.