I’ll admit I had no business crying over my dumpster fire life while driving through a narrow pass in the Canadian Great Claw Mountains. But in all fairness, that snow drift came out of nowhere.

One moment, I was losing consciousness, pretty sure I was going to die. The next, I woke up inside a luxurious cave home, lying on a cozy den nest—surrounded by three insanely hot bears: a sweet one who smells like a cinnamon roll, a clever one with wicked eyes, and a glaring one with a serious case of resting thundercloud face.

They all want me to mate with them. Now. And stay with them through Christmas and beyond.

Maybe I really did die in that car accident.

This can’t be real… can it? I left everything behind for a fresh start in Vancouver after a breakup that nearly broke me. So why does staying with three bears I just met feel like a dream possibility?

What would you do? Asking for a friend.