Alphas of Storm Isle (Complete Boxed Set: Books 1-5): Werebear Shifter Menage Romance

by Sophie Chevalier

  Watch yourself, Ginj. Don’t let the bear out. Keep him occupied like this. Don’t start a fight.

  “I have been without a mate my entire life, sow,” he whispered, licking her throat. Oh, gross! Gross! Gross! Gross! “But I have been with women. Don’t imagine our coupling will be short.”

  “No.”

  “No, master.”

  “No, master.”

  She glanced at the little crowd of surreptitiously watching bears near the cave entrance. They need TV on this island. But I guess it’s a good thing these fucks can’t mind their own business, since it means they’re not watching the cliffs. They won’t see Hunter coming.

  “You taste like you smell, sow.”

  “How is that?” she whispered, trying not to sound terse. He was palming her breast with one hand; the other was an iron bar around her naked waist.

  “Vanilla, girl! Fresh-cut vanilla. There’s a sweetness to you, too—something flowery. It’s so feminine, sow, so innocent. I can’t wait to sink inside you. Will it feel as sweet as you smell?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Other men have said so.”

  His cock jumped against her navel. “Other men will never have you again. Only me.”

  “Yes, master.” She felt his cock throb again, and he groaned.

  “You’re mine, sow. You’re finally mine.”

  Something changed in the air. Outside the cave, there was a slow, confused stir; she heard a disturbance from the sea-facing side of the heights.

  “All mine. I’ll sire cubs off you. I’ll mate you every day. You’ll forget the men who had you before… you’ll only know, only remember me…”

  There was a sudden roar, loud and furious. Ginger’s face snapped toward the cave mouth.

  She recognized that roar. Hunter.

  “What was that?” hissed Gunnar. His hold on Ginger tightened.

  “Let go of me,” she said, not bothering to hide the flat anger in her voice. Her playacting was almost up.

  The sound of battle outside was real and growing now: a couple of brown bears rushed the shifters at the cave mouth, paw-swiping and chuffing. She heard a roar she recognized—knew—was Dane’s.

  “You? Girl! You tricked me?” Gunnar asked, clenching her arms. “Distracted me? You—”

  She spat in his face.

  He howled with rage and threw her away from him, onto the cave floor. His eyes went a cold, ghoulish gold.

  “Evil little cunt. Snake! I’ll kill you! You dare make mischief with me? I’m a man, sow! A shifter born of countless generations of shifters! I’ll rend you limb from limb!”

  “Will you?” she asked, and she felt the fire start in her own eyes. “You dumb fucker! Don’t you know what I am? I’m not a scared little human girl anymore. I’m a she-bear. And I’m angry.”

  She saw the realization grow in his eyes—the realization of what she was. And then he shifted into a black bear and loped toward the cave mouth, grunting and head-shaking—running away from her.

  Her human thoughts seared away. There was only the animal.

  She shifted into a bear. A huge, heavy-bodied, powerful bear—an adult female grizzly, rippling with strength. Roaring, she thundered after him.

  Gunnar made it out into the clearing, where his people were being savaged left and right, but she was right behind him—big, dangerous, and infuriated—and everyone in the cliff-top glen could see what happened next.

  Her jaw seized the back of his neck.

  He bleated and struggled, muzzle foaming, but she lifted him clear off the ground, shook him—and then slammed him back down, hard, in the lady ferns.

  His hoarse, strangled barks and panicked squeals stopped abruptly when she pressed her jaw closed as hard as she could. Bone crunched against her teeth.

  She opened her mouth and let him drop.

  The battle had stalled while everyone around them watched their struggle, waiting to see what would become of Gunnar, the seer-Alpha who had started all this violence. Now they knew his fate.

  He was dead.

  Chapter 5

  “You know someone should’ve done that a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Ginger scrunched her nose while Hunter wiped her face with a rough, tatty washcloth. She gripped his wrist like she wanted to stop him, but didn’t actually try to push him away. His hot skin felt good under her fingers.

  “Don’t blame yourself about what happened. It had to be done. He threatened us all, Ginj.” He dipped the washcloth in the wild spring again, then went to work rubbing blood and muck off her throat.

  She tipped her chin up, to help him. “I don’t blame myself. I don’t even feel bad. Is that wrong?”

  “No, baby, it’s not wrong. He was an evil son-of-a-bitch and he sure menaced you often enough. You didn’t give him a whirlwind he hadn’t sown.”

  “It’s more than that.” She turned her head, so he could get the side of her neck. “I just… there’s no guilt at all. I feel fine, and that can’t be normal. I mean… I killed him.”

  Hunter shrugged. “You’re an animal now, Ginj. He was a threat to you and the rival of your men. He put his filthy hands on you. He hurt the clans. What would any animal do to a foe like that?”

  “Are you saying I can’t feel empathy, Beaumont?”

  “Nah, come on. Obviously you can. I’m just saying… make an enemy of a grizzly and you better watch the fuck out.”

  She smiled. Then took his free hand and put it on her naked waist.

  “What now, anyway?”

  “I dunno, baby. That’s up to you. Are you gonna stay with a clan, somewhere in the wild, or go back to the city?”

  “I want to go back to the city.”

  He nodded. “Thought you would.”

  “But I don’t want to be away from you.”

  “Then be my mate. Be my mate, and we’ll never be separated for long. The bond will be too strong.” He leaned in, but she turned slightly so he couldn’t kiss her, even though she wanted that.

  “What about Dane? I want to be with him too.”

  “So be with him, baby! Be with both of us. We’ll make a triad.”

  “You’re… alright with that?” she asked, nuzzling the underside of his jaw. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s fine. Ginger, I love you. Among us, love is pretty permanent—I need to be with you, in whatever way there is.”

  “But you hate Dane.”

  He snorted. “No, I don’t. I don’t hate him. I… respect him. But even if I did hate him, I’d accept him to be with you.”

  “I don’t understand how this will work.”

  “Well.” He bit her ear; her eyes fluttered closed. Around them, the forest shushed in gentle morning breezes—she could hear a couple of sparrows chirping. Overnight, a southerly wind had carried most of the fire smoke away, and bears were out earthing and damping the last burning tracts in the woods. “First, we have to mate formally. Then you’ll go to the city with Dane, and—”

  “Excuse me, ‘formally’? How do bears mate ‘formally’? Steal really, really fancy picnic baskets and climb trees to tune of the Blue Danube Waltz? Then retire to the den, put on some Kenny G…?”

  He chuckled into her hair. “Agree to mate with me, and agree to mate with him. Then the three of us will meet and mate together.”

  She was speechless for a second, not sure she’d heard right.

  “Together?” she whispered finally.

  “Mm-hm. I guess it might seem strange by human standards, but it’s our way.”

  “You can’t stand each other, Hunter. You and him.”

  “We might surprise you. Listen, Ginger.” He put both his hands on her face, lifting it to look at him. “Back there, with Gunnar? You were so brave, and so strong, and so wild. MacAlister and I both saw that, and we know now that one man can’t have you. But we can share you.”

  “Hunter…”

  “I know that, coming from your world, this is all really new and really confusing,�
�� he went on, his thumb moving on her cheek. “But trust me, it’s natural for shifters. I promise it will feel right.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  She held onto his powerful arms, confused. “But when I’m in the city with Dane, where will you be? When will I see you?”

  “You’ll see me when my trawling season’s over. I’ll come to you. We can stay in the city together, or I can bring you up north with me until it’s time to head out fishing again.”

  “I couldn’t just leave a job for that long, though—an entire season in Canada, I mean—”

  “Baby, MacAlister has more money than your average small country. You won’t have to worry about things like that if you don’t want to. You don’t have to work again if you choose not to.”

  “I don’t—I don’t care about his money,” she said, flustered. “You know that’s not why I—”

  “I know. And he knows, too. But it does have advantages.”

  “What about you? You won’t have to work anymore, either. Right?”

  He snorted. “We’ll see. I’m not his mate, Ginger—you are. I’m just in his triad. And, honestly, I love working on the water. You should let me take you out there someday.”

  She ran her hand down his front. “I’d like that.”

  None too gently, he nipped her neck. “I want you, Ginger. Fuck, I always want you. Tell MacAlister you’ll mate with me and you’ll mate with him. I want this to be official. I want to be yours, baby, and I want you to be mine. Let’s triad.”

  She hummed with pleasure as his teeth worked on her throat. “This wasn’t the kind of wedding I imagined as a little girl, I have to say.”

  “No. It’s better.”

  She laughed. The sparrows lifted off their spruce in annoyance.

  “I’m serious, Ginger.” He bit her almost hard enough to bruise; she loved it. “We’ll be happy. I’ll make you happy. He’ll make you happy. It will be a good life.”

  She sighed with enjoyment as he kissed where he’d been biting.

  “I believe you, Hunter. I think so too.”

  “One thing, though. Will you love me even if I’m not Alpha?”

  “Alpha?” she had to laugh, a little; then she kissed him, biting his bottom lip. “I don’t care, Hunter. I don’t care.”

  “Good. Dane can have it. I’m sick of fighting—all I want for now is the sea, and you. I want you. He can have the leadership this year.”

  She nuzzled him. He didn’t need a title to be a powerful, influential man, or to have her love.

  “You have me, Hunter. You have me.”

  ***

  “Dane. Riona.”

  “Ginger.” He looked up from what he had been doing: speaking with Riona near one of the celebratory bonfires. Up and down the beach, the sound of drinking, fiddling, and roaring driftwood filled the night.

  “Hello, daughter,” Riona said, gazing at Ginger. “You killed the seer yourself, I hear. What a braveheart.”

  “Thank you,” said Ginger, flushing. “I didn’t really… plan it.”

  “No,” Riona said. “But the animal in you knew what to do. You are truly one of us now.”

  Ginger’s flush deepened.

  “Pardon me now. I will leave you.” Riona stalked away, off to where Torin was sitting alone and drinking homebrew on the shore rocks.

  “How are you, Ginger?” Dane asked lowly. “After everything that’s happened today?”

  “I’m fine.” She pulled down the sleeves of Hunter’s borrowed flannel, feeling shy; it was silly since the shirt was far too big on her anyway. Just come out with it. “Dane, I—”

  “You know I love you, darling.”

  “I love you too.” She gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. His handsome face, gold eyes, and smoked wood scent made her pussy throb. “I came to find you because I want to tell you: I want you to mate me. You and Hunter.”

  “Of course. A triad. I already talked to him about it.”

  “You did?”

  “Briefly.”

  “Is this—okay? With you?” She bit her plush bottom lip. “I don’t know why or how but I love both of you, and want both of you, and—”

  “You are what you are, Ginger. Don’t be ashamed.” His hands went onto her arms; they felt warm and strong. “I love you as you are. I want to take you as you are. Let’s mate tonight.”

  “Tonight? Now?”

  “I guarantee you Beaumont doesn’t want to wait.”

  No. That’s true.

  And neither do I.

  The animal in her wanted to bond her mates now. Tonight, even, like Dane said.

  She swallowed. “Where?”

  ***

  There was a field nearby, a break in the woods—it shaded in from red alders and yellow cedar to become a sea of sword fern, salal, self-heal, and speedwell, a soft bed beneath the stars.

  “We both fill you. I mean by that that we both need to leave our seed in you,” Dane explained, as he and Ginger walked there quietly through the forest. “That’s really the binding moment.”

  “You both have filled me. Like, already. You came in me, and Hunter’s come in me…” Dozens of times. “…more than once.”

  “Have we filled you at the same time? In the same place? During a formal mating?”

  “No. I guess not.” She could feel herself flushing, even though the new, animal part of her found nothing here to be ashamed of. “So you’re both going to—fuck me.”

  “We mate with you.”

  “I’m a little scared,” she admitted.

  Dane stopped where he was and looked back at her. Since the change, she could see much better in the dark, and she could see his concerned expression very, very clearly.

  “Ginger. Darling. It’s just us.”

  “I know.” Her neck burned. “I know it is.”

  “We love you. Listen.” He pulled her close to him. “All the woman has to do in a triad mating like this is enjoy herself. That’s it, Ginger. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy the attentions of two men who love you and both want to bring you to climax.”

  When he put it like that—two handsome, virile men working her over, both of them wanting to bring her to orgasm—her clit throbbed.

  “Alright. I guess that’s fine.” She half-smiled. “I do want this, Dane. Don’t worry. Come on—let’s go. Let’s mate.”

  ***

  Hunter was already at the meadow; she realized the men must have arranged this. They both want this so much. They want me so much.

  “MacAlister.”

  “Beaumont.”

  For a moment the men stared hard at each other—glared, almost—while separated by only a couple of feet. Ginger knew that was a dangerously small distance between fully grown grizzly bulls who didn’t like each other.

  But nothing happened. There was an electricity between them, a tension, but neither man did anything to provoke the other. There was no outbreak of violence.

  Ginger took the opportunity to step in between them.

  Something changed, instantly. It was like her closeness to both of them—along with her obvious, melting receptivity; her scent; and the sweet perfume of wild plants and conifer trees—activated their animal instincts to mate. The bears in them took control: they began to touch her, palm her, fondle her. There was nothing more to be said. They were here to seal the triangle, and that was what they would do.

  Hunter kissed her with real feeling, a big, strong hand sliding down her stomach; Dane bit her ear, squeezing her pert, plump breast. Hunter’s fingers dipped under the waistband of her jeans; Dane unbuttoned the top closure of her shirt.

  They undressed her. It was like nothing she had experienced, so achingly erotic and so gently done that her pussy swelled up like she was in heat. Which maybe she was.

  Dane opened her shirt, slowly, deliberately, while Hunter stood behind her unsnapping and unzipping her jeans. When Dane slid her shirt o
ff her shoulders, Hunter pulled her jeans down her hips. Naked, with Dane rubbing her bare, pink-nippled breasts and kissing her, and Hunter kneeling to nip the side of her thighs, she started to tremble. The she-bear inside her wanted them to claim her. Wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything.

  I want this. I love them both. I belong to them both, and they belong to me.

  The kisses from Dane got thicker, hotter; his hand ran up her neck to tangle in her hair. Hunter licked up her spine, his grip closing on her waist—when he got up to the back of her neck, he bit her and she gasped.

  The hand Dane didn’t have buried in her hair went between her legs, his fingers rubbing her slick, swelling folds. Hunter kneaded her breasts from behind, teething harder and harder on the back of her neck.

  She’d never been handled like this, by two men at once—and certainly not by two men who loved her so much, or who wanted so much to give her pleasure. Her hips started rocking as Dane pressed a finger inside her. She was so wet that he growled approvingly.

  The men were stripping even as they worshipped her, and before long the three of them were naked, pressed close, and biting, kissing, half-snarling—pure animals under the starlight. It felt so right, so natural that all her lingering doubts burned away like tissue paper.

  The men got her down onto the ground, down onto the softness of ferns and oxalis and bergamot. She surrendered to them, and to the moment, spreading her legs so both men could reach between them and pleasure her: Dane fingering her—slowly, teasingly—and Hunter rubbing her clit—rawly, hard and fast.

  Her hips bucked; moan after moan escaped her; her face and chest flushed. Hunter sucked on her neck as he worked her clit, while Dane kissed the side of her mouth and the curve of her cheek. The delicious, mingled smell of them—smoked wood mixed with salt and pine—made her head spin.

  Hunter gripped her thigh, opening her legs even further, and then—she cried out, with relief—sank inside her.

  She needed this. She needed to be mated by her bull. The feeling of his fat, veined cock throbbing inside her soothed a need that went too deep to be named.