Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance

by A. T. Mitchell

  I knew. Old Hector was one of the few guys left who'd gone in an internment camp during the last big war. Government boys trusted shifters about as much as the Japanese, and we were way too close to the West coast for comfort, especially after a Japanese balloon bomb exploded near Klamath Falls.

  Half a bear's lifetime had passed since then. But the old wounds remained, alive with pain.

  “The past is the past,” I said, trying my very best to be diplomatic. “Humans haven't bothered us much since the treaty several decades ago. Yeah, Lyla's done wrong. I should know because I'm the one who recovered the fucking artifact!” I nearly spat on the floor.

  “Yes, and that's the lone reason why you'll be protected from a similar fate, Nick.” Judy looked quickly from me to Branson, hoping her words satisfied the chief.

  Branson glowered. Very slowly, he hauled himself up, shuffling toward me with one angry eye and that pitch black eye patch.

  “There's no changing this, Nick. The last thing in the world I want is to sacrifice one of our best and brightest – even if he is a defiant little shit.”

  Little? I'm bigger than you and over thirty years old. Watch it, old man.

  “Let him do what he's gonna do,” Hector said, just before collapsing into another coughing fit.

  “It's our way. The human female will come back if we let her go. We can't just hold her here, away from her own people. That's inviting trouble. If you'll recant, admit you fucked up, we can still find our way through this, son.”

  I'm not your fucking son either. What I wouldn't give to have my father in charge of this clan, instead of you...

  At one time, when I was very young, it looked like dad was going to take the Alpha's reigns, an easy path to the Elder Council. Then fate intervened and he was killed in an auto accident.

  Branson reached out. I cringed as the Elder's hand found my shoulder. He squeezed – much harder than any reassuring grip ought to be.

  It took clenching every muscle in my body to refrain from knocking his domineering hand away and planting a fist in his face.

  “Okay,” I said at last. “You're right. I've been too reckless. There's only one way. Just, please, Elder...let's put this all behind us. You've got everything you wanted.”

  Branson managed a weak smile. I'd surprised him. He was a cold hearted bastard, but for some reason he really wanted to keep from killing me.

  If I cooperated – or pretended to cooperate – he wouldn't need to.

  It was hell shutting out Lyla's terrible screams. I wanted to give her a wink, a nudge, anything to show her they'd have to kill me first if they wanted to get to her.

  But any little gesture would've given it all away.

  I closed my eyes, staring past the Elders, past Branson as he wandered to the edge of the room and slammed the door shut after Victor and Beamer dragged Lyla away.

  “We'll do it tonight,” he whispered, as if that was supposed to be consoling. “Quick and clean, young man. I promise.”

  “I know you will,” I said.

  I bit my tongue so hard I drew blood. Judy and Hector eyed their lead man as he returned to his seat.

  “Sleep through the night. Don't let your mind wander. In the morning, we'll have Beamer collect the artifact from you. He'll watch you tonight and make sure you don't have any second thoughts about our little understanding here. Does that sound good to everybody, or what?”

  “A very reasonable plan, Elder,” Judy said.

  “Agreed,” Hector whispered, all he could force out before he collapsed into coughing again.

  “Good!” Branson leaned back in his big leather chair. “Then it's settled. You've done us a big wrong, Nick. You get one chance at redemption. Don't fuck it up.”

  I tried to make peace with Beamer the only way I knew how: generous shots of whiskey over checkers.

  “Wait, man. Wait. Am I supposed to hop off the board like this?” He slumped in his chair and belched, clutching a black circular chip in one hand.

  His big loud grizzly burp rattled the whole ceiling.

  If it were any other night, I would've laughed. The older bear had always been good to me, except for his latest stint following Branson's orders.

  Somehow, I summoned a ghost of a smile. It only lasted for a second.

  All I could think about was Lyla, no doubt being held in some dingy corner of the Klamath Clan Executive Office, that dead eyed creep Victor standing over her. I had to drink Beamer into a stupor and get the hell out of here.

  They wouldn't finish her until it was near dawn. Branson had taken his usual big meal of venison and roast beef, and then he'd probably sit with the other Elders, sipping brandy until it was time to gloat over Lyla's death.

  All that would take a few hours. Plenty of time for a rescue.

  “Here, Beamer. Your glass is looking a little weak, let me top you off and take my turn.”

  “Oh, it's your turn?” He rolled his head, slowly blinking his eyes.

  The big fuzzy hair on his head bounced. I helped press the replenished drink into his hand.

  For a second, the hair on his arm rippled, tiny crops of fur sprouting. It took a lot of alcohol to make a man lose control of his bear and start shifting.

  Good. Exactly where I wanted him.

  “Come on, Beam. Drink up. This is a new night for us. Not just me, but the whole Clan.” I raised my glass, clinking it against his.

  I made a few quick moves on the checker board and stopped. A cub could've beaten him at this point. It was all for appearances.

  “You said it, man! I'm real glad you came around. I knew you'd do the right thing, Nick. And you know, I don't give a shit what Branson says. You're still Alpha material to me. We need a guy like you in charge when the next generation of Elders kicks the...”

  Beamer collapsed. Checkers flew everywhere as the board folded up around his face.

  Out like a light. I listened to him snoring as I got up, grabbed a pillow from the couch, and tucked it underneath his chubby head.

  He smacked his lips, whining like a grizzly who'd just come across some sour berries in the forest.

  “Thanks for the kind words, old buddy.” I patted him on the shoulder. “If I was Alpha, I wouldn't have to do what I'm about to do next...”

  I saw Lyla's silhouette in the basement window.

  She was exactly where I thought she'd be, up against the wall near storage. Victor sat across from her, the handgun in his lap, scratching at his stubby bald head.

  I suppressed a growl and rounded the corner, looking for the nearest entrance. The Executive Office had a couple old doors from its time when the US Air Force used this place as housing for local staff.

  The doors stuck out like a sore thumb. They'd been sloppily thrown into uneven passages to conform with US safety regulations. Not something that ever mattered to the Klamath bears who'd built this place, and later restored it.

  I found the small silver knob and yanked as hard as I could. Didn't budge.

  “Damn!” I muttered, gathering all my strength.

  I had to be careful. I was sure I could bust the door open, but tearing in too loud might alert the asshole holding Lyla hostage.

  Grab it with both hands. Brace your feet. On three...

  One...two...three!

  I pulled. As expected, the rotten hinges snapped, even more easily than I'd expected. One jerk of grizzly strength took the door clean off.

  I stuck my head in and listened closely. No footsteps or voices. The Gods gave us small favors sometimes, didn't they?

  Propping the door up behind me, I crept in, making a dead target for the basement where they were holding Lyla. It was strange to be after her again, stealthier than ever, and this time not as a killer.

  I was going to save her. I had to.

  This woman intrigued both sides of my soul, man and bear. No, not just the wild curves she had either.

  Her scent, her eyes, the way she tossed her hair when she sassed me back...


  For a human, she wasn't afraid of me. She tempted and teased the bear inside me in a way no female bear or half-blood ever had.

  Better pay attention, I told myself, rounding the corner. You want to keep on claiming her, don't you?

  I came a couple feet from them, just around the bend, and stopped. It was time.

  The anger prickling up inside me exploded. I dropped to my hands and knees, bursting my clothes, growling the entire time.

  Bones cracked, rearranging themselves. Dark brown hair burst out around my pores, and so did razor sharp claws.

  The transformation only took a few seconds in all. But I needed every precious second. I intended to catch that bastard by surprise and make him pay for what he'd done.

  “Tunder!” Victor squeaked the name when saw me.

  His gun clattered to the floor. Nobody knew better how useless handguns were on a full sized grizzly than our kind.

  He dropped, his fight-or-flight engaged, shifting to save his own ass. I was on him before he fully ballooned in size and ripped out of his clothes.

  I dug my claws in, reaching to get a tight hold on his half-furry back. The creature beneath me screamed, a bloodcurdling roar of rage and pain that echoed through the whole basement. It was almost loud enough to drown out Lyla's own shrieks.

  Hearing her terror sent more fire pounding through my heart. I pushed, fatally embracing my enemy.

  I lunged at him with my mouth, getting a good hold of his jaw. If he'd still been in human form, I would've severed his jugular.

  Too late.

  Now fully changed, Victor pushed back. He was powerful, just like any bear, but I was bigger and younger as a man and a beast.

  Ignoring the claws ripping at my sides, I tightened my hold, going straight for his face. My jaws caught his snout and began to shred his fat, leathery nose.

  I held his mouth shut as he tried to scream. Pain, anger, and raw fear blasted out of him. My bear tasted long overdue blood and rejoiced.

  This is for the way you made her suffer. This is for carrying out Branson's orders like a mindless animal.

  My jaw popped. I winced at the pain, struggling to regain my hold. I released the death bite when I realized his claws weren't pressing into me anymore, nor was he bellowing his lungs out.

  The bear underneath me slumped to the ground. I stepped past, dipping one paw into a puddle of sticky red blood pooling beneath his head.

  Sorry, brother. Except you were no brother of mine in the end.

  I never wanted to kill my own kind. Regardless, there would be plenty of time for soul searching later.

  I needed my girl. I pricked my furry ears up at the air, gathering breath, hoping no one else had heard the battle downstairs.

  I waited several seconds, listening intently. Nothing.

  My hind leg touched the cold black handgun. I shifted into a man, resting the bear, wiping excess blood onto the wall to clean my hands. I reached toward the ground, picking up the gun and my jacket too – the one thing I hadn't shredded to pieces when I changed.

  Lyla gave me the weirdest look when I came around the corner. I was naked from the waist down with a slim leather coat wrapped around my shoulders, the gun drawn at my side.

  “What the fuck happened to your pants?”

  I just gave her a smile.

  “Oh...Jesus!” Her eyes popped open. “I never thought I'd see you again! You gave me up.”

  “No, you saw a ruse. I'd never, ever turn you over to these animals to be ripped apart. Count on it.” I moved behind her, working out the knot in the cord. They'd bound her hands behind the chair, a painful reminder of our first meeting. “Let's just get you out of here.”

  She stood and quickly stretched. I marveled at her curves, shaking with their newfound freedom.

  I nearly had to hide an erection.

  “There's a door this way. I'm gonna lead you down this hall. Step over Victor carefully and don't look.”

  I knew it was an impossible order, but I had to try. Gawking at his body would only delay us.

  Lyla did her best to keep her eyes trained on me. I took her by the hand and we walked quickly down the old maintenance corridor, past the crumpled being on the floor and the widening red pool around him.

  “Wait!” She hissed, just as I kicked the busted the door aside. “You're going out like that?”

  “Isn't like I have much choice. I'll change as soon as we get away from here. We have to get to your car.”

  I moved, quickly walking out into the cool dark night. Lyla was right behind me, struggling to keep pace as fast as her big beautiful legs could carry her.

  “Hey, hey! Where are we heading? Would you just slow down and tell me what's going on?” Frustration boiled in her voice.

  “We need to put distance between ourselves and this place. Some real fucking miles. Here, there's an old barn we use as a garage up ahead...I'm positive they would've taken your car there.”

  She followed me in silence. It only took a few minutes to cross the back paths through the reservation.

  Luckily, it was so late now that the whole town was asleep, or else packing in for a late dinner.

  The proper hunting season hadn't started yet. There shouldn't be any bears in the woods except the patrols. And among that handful, one was dead and the other was peacefully snoring in my cabin.

  The people didn't know about this incident yet, even if someone had found Victor. News traveled fast among our small group, but not that fast.

  “There!” I stopped at the door leading into the big long shed. I knocked once, just to be safe.

  No answer.

  I reached for the handle and pulled. The rotten woodwork gave way even faster than I expected.

  Lyla cursed behind me, coughing. The big wooden slab hit the ground hard and kicked up a small dust cloud.

  I reached behind me, found her hand, and pulled my companion into the office. Luck found us again: there were no other vehicles in for a fix right now.

  Brady, our lone mechanic, was messy and lazy as ever. He'd left the keys on his desk, right next to the old thermos stained with a thousand old cups of coffee and soup.

  We were out in the garage fast. I raised the door and then ran to the side, just as Lyla started her car up.

  She popped the lock and I climbed in. It was weird sitting in a stranger's car naked, but the slight amusement in her eyes said she didn't mind.

  “Let's go. I'll direct you along the back roads...we have to make good time on those. Best not to take the main routes around the reservation. Sometimes the boys patrol those for stragglers who might want to break in and do us harm.”

  “People like me,” she added.

  I looked at her, darkness dashing out the light in my eyes. The triumph swelling my heart from our great escape hadn't lasted long.

  Damn, beautiful. You really had to remind me, didn't you?

  I took a minute to let a long, harsh F-bomb echo through my head.

  Fuck. Fuck! Double fuck.

  There was no getting around it. I'd killed a fellow bear, however much he deserved it, all to help a convicted thief and smuggler make a getaway.

  There had to be more than this, no matter my feelings for her.

  “That cabin right there – turn!” I yelled, pointing.

  She roared behind my place and jerked the car to a sudden stop.

  “Nick! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Be back in a second...”

  This had to be about more than saving my curvy new obsession. I slid in through the back door, listening to the steady rumble of Beamer's snores. He was still dead drunk and collapsed over the checkerboard.

  I made a hurried trip through the bedroom, grabbing a bug out bag I always kept with a change of clothes and a First Aid kit for my patrols. I zipped it open, snatched the artifact off my dresser, and shoved it inside.

  The bastards who'd marched us over to the Elders were too caught up in seizing Lyla to worry about the big green ball.


  I half-wondered if Lyla would drive away without me. I wouldn't have totally blamed her if she did.

  After all, I was the one who pretended to throw her to the wolves – or rather, the bears – the only chance I had to save both our asses.

  I packed my stuff in and threw on a change of clothes. Just enough time for that, and not a second more for anything else.

  Her bright eyes sparkled behind the windshield when she saw me emerge, clad in a new pair of jeans.

  I knew that flicker. Surprise, uncertainty. Was she really thinking about leaving without me?

  “Let's go on,” I said, sliding into the seat next to her.

  “Well, yeah! Now that you're dressed to ride, cowboy. Hope it was worth it.”

  I smiled, gesturing to the fork in the road just outside the reservation's main gate. The car turned, and we were out into the night, heading as far north as a half tank of gas would carry us from this nightmare.

  “Where the hell are we? I've never been this far north before along all these little back roads.” Lyla swallowed.

  I'd taken over driving at the last stop. I kept urging her to rest, but she was obviously too alert to follow through. Having a man who'd been ordered to kill her not so long ago driving the car had a funny way of keeping a person awake.

  “Junuta. Small town, not too far past Bend. We're on our way to the Idaho border now, baby.”

  “Don't you baby me,” she said sharply.

  I glanced over. We had three or four solid hours until sunup.

  Darkness billowed all around us, a constant shroud of dark gray clouds rolling by. Thankfully, bear eyes always saw better in the dark than a human's. Regretfully too, since it let me see the lines of stress and sorrow furrowed near her pretty eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “You didn't know what they'd do back there,” she said sullenly. “They could've killed me. Hell, I really thought you were going to let them. The way you handed me over to that vile man, that animal.”

  She sniffed. Hard. Fighting back tears.

  My heart sank lower. Damn it, there wasn't any choice! Why didn't she understand?

  “I knew they wouldn't hurt you. Not for hours. Everything I did was to save you, Lyla.”