Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance

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Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance Page 10

by A. T. Mitchell


  His arm shot up, pointing an accusatory finger at me. I repressed a bitter smile.

  So, he'd gone with a safer story after all. Hadn't told them about Lyla at all. Until now.

  “I get it,” I said, switching the bullhorn on again. “You're all shocked. Surprised. So am I. Thank you, Elder, for proving my point. You see how this man keeps secrets? Don't worry, people. There are a lot more deep, dark secrets where that came from! Oh, but it's all for 'the good of the Klamath Clan,' isn't it?”

  “You're still a traitor, Tunder! You betrayed your own kind for a human female, you sick sonofabitch!”

  I ignored the anonymous voice below. I was more concerned about Beamer, who'd at least lowered the rifle.

  “The girl did steal from us, yes, but then she made up for her crimes. I'm telling you the truth. This little incident pales when it comes to the real secrets our illustrious Elders have been hiding. Why don't you tell them about your old man, Branson? Tell folks all about Theo's purges and bank robberies, all the lives he ruined by getting our people into crime, bear and human alike!”

  “Crime? What's he talking about?”

  “The Elders rule like little dictators, pretending their seniority alone gives them wisdom. But the Clan wasn't always run with secret deals and three votes, was it?”

  Branson was practically shaking with rage now. The other two had shown up. Judy was at his side, her old face lined with worry. Hector coughed, propping himself up to stare at me over his walker.

  Perfect timing. I decided to whip out my Ace card.

  “This is the proof! This is the artifact that's caused so much trouble. All because it has so many answers for our people.” I held up the destiny stone for everyone to see.

  Plenty of curious eyes. No one was very impressed, and I didn't blame them. It wasn't much to look at when it wasn't glowing, shooting its red rays in all directions.

  “Beamer! You've got to let me down. No arrest. Give me a minute to prove what I'm saying is true.” He lifted his rifle. “None of you have much reason to trust me. But if you don't let me do this, you won't know that there's even less reason to trust our all knowing council.”

  I took a deep breath and began to climb down. Really, he could've shot me at any time, or maybe he was just waiting to intercept me as soon as I got my feet on the ground.

  It's now or never. All in. I'd rather get a bullet in my brain than keep up this charade.

  Angry men and women in the crowd chattered louder as I descended. I kept going, without even looking at them or Beamer.

  My feet touched the ground. I pressed my hands to the statue and turned, one last time.

  My old friend and mentor had the rifle pointed at my face. A second later, he lowered it, shuddering with self-disgust.

  “Hey! What the fuck are you doing, you idiot?” Branson exploded, screaming over the rest of the people. “Shoot him! Shoot him dead. No more fucking delays! This murderer, this traitor, doesn't deserve a second trial.”

  Several people turned toward the booming, bitter voice slowly. Their faces were lined with shock.

  Branson had a history of public outbursts, but never before the entire clan. He looked like a fire hydrant shaking with too much built up pressure.

  “You see that?” I whispered to Beamer.

  “Yeah. But that doesn't mean I trust you either. Get up in front of the statue, man, and do whatever you're gonna do. This won't end well any other way. If something awesome doesn't happen, you're going in handcuffs.”

  That was fair. I strode forward, destiny stone in hand, gripping it as I spread my arms and legs.

  Summoning fire in my blood for shifting wasn't hard. I fixed my eyes on Branson and his vile companions as I fell, screaming as bones, flesh, and nerves contorted with unusual fury.

  Shit. Hope I didn't break the mic. Lyla won't be able to hear anything if it's shattered or all muffled.

  I worried about her showing up unannounced. But just now, back in my grizzly form, I had bigger worries.

  The bear whined deep inside me, hungry for blood. I had to restrain myself from charging straight through the crowd and biting into Branson's head.

  The stone, the stone. Go for the stone.

  My paws fumbled with the big round object. I managed a grip, throwing my strength into my hind legs.

  When half my claws were touching it, and it caught the distant moonlight filtering down from above, it burst fiery red. At night, the glow was far stronger than it had been in the daytime forest, more like holding a big red sun than a bleeding moon.

  People turned toward the cherry red brightness and gasped. Some of the ones in the front shielded their eyes. Behind me, Beamer swore. I heard the unmistakable sound of the rifle clattering on the statue's wooden platform.

  I tipped my head up to the sky and roared, calling on the Gods to come to me this moment, purveyors of truth and fate.

  The destiny stone continued to flicker, a livelier red than before. The blood red glow circulated with dizzying intensity, almost like a mechanical heart churning blood inside it.

  I poked out my huge tongue through sharp teeth, gasping for cool, nourishing air. Something else was happening. It was like the sphere was sucking the life force out of me, as if it were my energy fueling the blood red glow.

  I fell on all fours, holding the stone snug in my paws. I began to shift.

  The heat surrounding my hands instantly dissipated, its shooting star glow tamed back to a jade green. I crouched around the stone, pretending to hide my nakedness. Really, the crouching position helped me feel like I wouldn't pass out.

  “What the hell was that?” Beamer whispered behind me, echoing the sentiment of a dozen bears in the crowd. “Feels like I've seen those fireworks before. Strong, calming...right.”

  Several people just below us nodded their heads. I smiled. Maybe they couldn't put it into words, but in their hearts, they knew damned well what that red light meant.

  Half the crowd turned to Branson for answers, and the rest to us. I reached for the bullhorn.

  “Do you see that, everyone? Do you know that light?”

  More heads nodded in the crowd, bemused and reluctant.

  “This is what he's hidden from you. The truth about your past, your future, the Klamath Clan's destiny and mine. I, Nicholas Tunder, am more than just an Alpha-in-waiting. I'm the heir to this bear clan's thrown.”

  More gasps, another long wave of chatter among my fellow bears. No one spiked up challenging it.

  Not even Branson. I eyed him warily across the crowd. All three Elders looked too shocked to speak or even think about giving more kill orders.

  Well, at least I've accomplished something here tonight...

  More excited tittering, jeers, and thunderous growls from the crowd. People were getting overly excited, dangerously close to a full out fight breaking out in the confusion. All it took was one overexcited bear taking grizzly form and –

  A deafening bang exploded behind me.

  I spun, just in time to see a quick puff of smoke rising from Beamer's file. He'd fired straight up into the sky. That got everybody's attention.

  He reached out to me, pointing at the bullhorn. I handed it over.

  “Alright, everybody, listen up! We've got a hell of a crisis on our hands. Just stay calm and we'll sort all this out. I'm calling on the other security guys to take the Elders into custody. I'll do the same for Mister Tunder here.”

  I didn't resist as Beamer grabbed my arm. Over the crowd, the look of horror on the Elders' faces was priceless. I beamed my smile at Branson, all my hate and triumph into that one good eye.

  “Wait, wait, wait...” There was an old, meager voice repeating the same word over the clamor.

  Beamer led me forward, and stopped just short of the Elders. We pushed through the crowd, many of whom had wisely decided to fan out and return to their cabins.

  A bear called Gerald, a little older than Beamer, had a small handgun drawn as he stood next to th
e Elders.

  “It's Hector. He wants to tell you something,” Gerald said to Beamer, flashing me a wary look.

  “Everything he said is true,” I heard old Hector say from a distance, surprisingly cough free. “I'm the oldest here...I remember the old ways. Branson's father took over more than a generation ago. Killed the King, and later his son. That hit on the girl...Branson thought she was armed and dangerous. He was hoping Nick and her would kill each other.”

  The two men shook their head. So did I, wondering how wickedly addled Branson's brain really was to think of Lyla as anything but a harmless, if misguided art thief.

  I watched Branson, just a couple paces away, silently fuming next to Judy. He wiped his mouth, salivating like he was getting ready for a fight.

  Suddenly, he lunged forward. I did too, making a line between him and Hector. Gerald and Beamer scrambled to separate us.

  I glared at the Elder, growling, but all his hatred was directed past me at Hector.

  “You dirty old rat. Fucking vermin!” He panted. “I'll gut you myself with my own bare claws when all this over. You've just chosen the wrong side, old man.”

  “Please,” Hector coughed to the guards. “He made me...now I'm telling you the truth.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes. Of course, the old fart was being self-serving as usual, but at least it was only feeding the suspicions I wanted fed about my one-eyed rival.

  Very few bears were left watching the spectacle. Several growls erupted from a few paces away. I turned, horror wrinkling my face as I saw Lyla running past several very pissed kinsmen a hair away from shifting.

  “Hey!” Beamer yelled after me.

  I ran, putting myself between the grizzly bears and her, preparing to turn to protect her. She threw herself into my arms, not even caring that I was still buck naked from changing before.

  “I'm sorry, Nick,” she whispered. “I couldn't wait a second longer. It sounded like a pack of wild animals tearing into you over the mic...then it went dead. My phone wouldn't get any reception out here. I couldn't call help.”

  “Harry! Arnold!” I shouted over her shoulder, stroking her hair. “Back to your cabins. You know you can't take me, and I'll seriously fuck up both your worlds, human and bear, if you lay a single hair on this woman.”

  The bears snarled, but kept their distance. Beamer and Gerald caught up to us. I growled, foaming with rage as they tore Lyla from my arms.

  “Separate these two!” Beamer shook his head, clearly overloaded with all the craziness. “Fuck me! Now we've got five outlaws to deal with, and four of 'em might still be our superiors.”

  “No! Not another trial. Please!” Lyla screamed. “People know we're missing. If we don't check in, they'll come looking...you can't kill me. And you won't hurt Nick either!”

  She spat at the ground. Beamer looked up and growled. Gerald lingered cautiously, a few steps from leading the Elders away to a holding place.

  “I've had it up to here with you, female, especially your little threats,” Beamer said. “Look, if you're really as harmless as Nick claims, then you won't do shit. Come with me. Stop struggling. Nobody is getting hurt tonight. I'll even put you two in the same cell...mostly because there's nowhere else for you.”

  “I trust him, Lyla,” I said quietly.

  She stopped kicking and flailing her arms. Slowly, Beamer fished out two pairs of handcuffs and clapped them on both of us.

  We were at my old friend's mercy. At least I wouldn't have to worry about Lyla out there, all alone, though I wished every second she'd started the car and driven away to safety.

  It was far from over. Things were only beginning to get wild and complicated.

  Hold on tight, beautiful. It's gonna be a long night before the sun rises in the morning.

  VIII: Blood and Answers (Lyla)

  “Tell me again. Did you kill Victor that night?” The big bear named Gerald standing over me gave me the worst looks I'd seen since the ruthless beast he was asking about.

  God, what an idiot. I can't believe I let them take me from him, even if there wasn't much choice.

  If an interrogation with these assholes is our only chance out of here, then I'll keep telling them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  “For the last time...No!” I said it so loud I nearly choked. “I came around the corner with Nick, and he was already gone. Obviously, he must've shifted and attacked Nick first.”

  I ignored the rattling cough across the table from me.

  “Fine. You're insisting you have nothing to do with this. Just wonder how deep all this goes. How much has been planned...this isn't the only time you've seen Hector since your first trial here, is it?”

  Our eyes met. The old man gave me a careless look, like he wanted me to spill everything.

  “For the last time, we met once at some ho-dunk town in California,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “It was shortly before I took the artifact off bear land. He said he was an art broker, promised me a pretty penny for getting that thing into his hands...”

  “And I told her to guard it with her life. I warned her others would be coming for it, just like Branson told me to. She was supposed to kill Nick when he came for her. Better yet if they killed each other. Guess you could say Branson got a lot more cunning since he offed Nick's old man, Grant, in that accident.”

  Gerald sighed. He paced the room slowly, totally acting the role of a salty old cop who'd seen far too much in his day, unable to digest one more great big disaster.

  “We lost one good man and had a hell of a scare, all because of this conspiracy?”

  Bah. It's sickening how many consider this Victor guy 'good.' I'm not crying any tears.

  “I told you already, that's Branson's mode of operating,” Hector sputtered, coughing into his palm one more time. “Been waiting to get rid of this bastard for a long time. I went along with him, using this girl as a pawn...”

  His old eyes flicked up. I saw amusement dancing there, rather than remorse.

  Well, fuck you too, old man.

  “Looks like she's proved herself way more useful than that. Never would've dreamed in a million years Nick would find out the truth with this human girl. The Gods' work is a mystery!”

  He laughed. Gerald and I locked eyes, sharing a brief moment of mutual sympathy.

  Selfish prick. You oughta be going down like Branson, I thought, scowling across the table.

  “Quiet,” he said to Hector, before turning back to me. “Your stories match. But why, then, didn't you ever tell Nick you'd seen this man before?”

  I blushed. Bottling the secret up turned my stomach, almost as much as being separated from my love while they were doing who knows what in his own inquisition.

  “There wasn't any reason for him to know...when we found out about the destiny stone at that Indian lodge, I wanted him to be confident. I think my brain shut down too.”

  “Shut down?”

  Across the table, Hector smiled. Nick was right. He really was a self-serving bastard, even if he was our bastard right now.

  “Yeah. Nobody wants to think they're being manipulated. I knew Branson and the Elders were scum the minute they put me on trial.” I stressed the plural, staring Hector right in the eyes. “But I didn't want to believe they were so...manipulative.”

  “It goes both ways, female,” Hector said. “You underestimate us. We've always just been dumb animals or monsters to your kind. And you humans...no bear wants to believe you're the seeds of our destruction, even though it keeps happening time and time again.”

  Silence. Gerald finished one more lap around the room as Hector forced himself through another round of coughing.

  “What happens next? I've given you everything you wanted.”

  Gerald turned his icy bear eyes on me. I could see the predator inside him, restless and frustrated, the same way Nick's eyes glowed with blood and fire when he wanted to let his baser instincts roam.

  “I'll take you b
ack to him for now while we sort that out. As for you...” Gerald turned to Hector. “We've got a lot more questions for you. Just as soon as we're done with Tunder.”

  Gerald walked me back to the empty little storage room they called a prison cell in the dank basement of that huge old mansion. I pulled the single worn blanket there over me and slept.

  When I woke, the door popped, and Nick slid in through the small gap.

  Beamer was behind him. I sat up straighter when I noticed he didn't shut the door right away.

  “What is it?”

  “You're both free to go for now. Nick will fill you in on the rest...”

  “What?” I smiled, and ran to hug him, but he didn't return half my exhilaration.

  “Let's get out of here. Sounds like the cabin's turned into a mess since I left. Or rather somebody ransacked it and turned it into a mess.” He paused, looked around at the torn wallpaper. “Still beats the hell out of this place.”

  It was early dawn. We crossed the familiar path in silence, with Beamer behind us, one more set of guns and claws to make sure no impulsive bear tried to jump us.

  “Fucking hell. Looks like a bison charged through here,” Nick said, as soon as we opened the door to his cabin.

  It wasn't a crazy description either. What little furniture remained was turned over, a small table and sofa splayed along the ground.

  Everything else had been pillaged. The wood carvings, the bony trophies, the old paintings...everything was gone.

  I closed the door behind me and stepped further into the devastated living room. My feet kicked up stray ash that had spilled out of the fireplace and I sneezed.

  Above it, someone had scratched TRAITOR into the brick wall.

  Nick looked at me closely, taking his sweet time. I waited, knowing the storm building inside him had reached its peak.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” He said, drawing closer. “You lied to me, Lyla. After everything we've been through the past couple months...”

 

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