My BFF's a Werebear

The Promise

Josie's POV

"Catch!" I yelled, grabbing a pair of heels from the bottom of my closet and tossing them over my shoulder without looking.

A satisfying yelp followed by a loud thud told me I'd landed my shot. I turned to find Abby sprawled on top of the mountain of clothes she'd been lying on, her wide eyes shooting daggers my way.

"Really, Josie?" she grumbled, pushing herself up like some irritated, feral cat.

I grinned. "Sorry! Guess I don't know my own strength." Not sorry. She was fine. Mostly.

I shoved another hanger aside, pulling out a dress that had been buried for way too long. I held it up with a victorious flourish. "You're wearing this. Non-negotiable. You're going to show off that body of yours, and I won't hear any whining about it."

She groaned, but she took the dress like the good little soldier she was. "You're lucky I trust you," she muttered, holding it up in front of the mirror.

I tilted my head and smirked. "Lucky? No, you're blessed to have me. Now hurry up. We're going to be late."

Fast forward thirty minutes, and we were sprinting down the stairs, me practically dragging Abby behind me.

"Did we really have to run?" she wheezed, clutching her side as we reached the second floor landing.

I shot her a look over my shoulder. "Do you want to get stuck in the back row? No? Then pick up the pace, Usain Bolt."

The crowd was already gathered, buzzing with excitement as we pushed through. My eyes scanned the crowd, landing on Noah waving at us from a prime spot near the front. Perfect.

I plopped down in the seat next to him and immediately grabbed his face, planting a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, babe. You saved my life."

He grinned like an idiot, clearly unbothered by the public manhandling. "No problem, Jos. Always here to serve."

I glanced at Abby, who had taken the seat next to me and was now fidgeting with her dress. Noah leaned forward, giving her a pointed look. "You ready to see the Benj-man rise to power?"

Her response was lackluster at best. "Uh, yeah... sure I am."

I narrowed my eyes. Abby didn't fool me for a second. She might be sitting here playing it cool, but I knew exactly what was going through her head. She wasn't thinking about the ceremony or Benji becoming chief. Nope. She was already dreading the next three days—when we'd leave for college and Benji wouldn't be coming with us.

She was a goner. Absolutely whipped for him. Not that she'd ever admit it.

I nudged her shoulder. "You're thinking about him staying behind, aren't you?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Gotcha.

Before she could answer, the low rumble of Chief Maddox's voice silenced the crowd. Abby snapped her head up, her eyes locking on the stage where Benji's dad stood in full ceremonial garb.

I bit back a laugh at her expression. Wide-eyed. Totally shocked.

"Wait until you see Benji," I whispered, smirking.

And, oh, was I right. So, so right.

When Benji stepped onto the stage, the air shifted. He was dressed in ceremonial clothing that somehow managed to look ancient and timeless while showing off his broad shoulders and lean frame. The intricate turquoise and silver patterns caught the light, making him look almost... godlike.

Abby's jaw literally dropped. Her eyes went wide, and if she wasn't careful, she'd start drooling. I stifled a laugh, but the annoyed twitch of her lips when she caught me smirking nearly made me lose it.

She wasn't the only one. The chatter behind us turned into giggles and whispers. Every girl in the room was staring at him like he was a prime cut of steak, and it was starting to make me angry on her behalf.

Benji's eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Abby, his entire expression shifted. His jaw tightened, his eyes darkened, and for a second, he looked like he was in pain. Actual pain.

Oh, boy.

His father cleared his throat, dragging Benji's attention back to the ceremony, but I wasn't the only one who noticed the moment.

The ceremony itself? A blur of ancient language and rituals I didn't fully understand. I leaned in, trying to catch some of the words, but it was hopeless. Still, the energy in the room was electric, and even I could feel the weight of what was happening.

Then, out of nowhere, Benji jumped down from the stage and made his way toward us.

Straight. Toward. Abby.

Her face froze in a mix of confusion and mild panic as he reached out and grabbed her hand. My grin stretched wide as she let him pull her up, too stunned to protest.

The crowd murmured, whispers spreading like wildfire as he hoisted her onto the stage with him. My chest practically burst with pride. Finally. Took him long enough.

But then, the elders brought out the knife.

Abby's panic was immediate and visible. She tugged at her arm, trying to pull away, but Benji leaned in, his lips moving silently. Whatever he said worked because she stopped squirming, though she still looked like she might throw up.

When the elder sliced Benji's palm, I flinched, even though he didn't. Blood dripped down his fingers, and I heard Abby gasp.

The rest happened so fast I almost missed it—the blood, the markings, the necklace. And then Benji leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as he fastened the chain around her neck.

I watched Abby melt. Actually melt. Her knees wobbled, and if he hadn't been holding onto her, I was pretty sure she would've hit the floor.

The crowd erupted into cheers and a few grumbles from the females behind us, but all I could focus on was the look on Benji's face. He'd just claimed her, whether Abby realized it or not.

And judging by the way she was looking at him, all flushed and starry-eyed, she wasn't too mad about it.

Not yet, anyway.