My Duty to Bear: Standalone BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Everson Brothers Book 2)

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My Duty to Bear: Standalone BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Everson Brothers Book 2) Page 9

by Alana Hart


  Amy’s eye was already starting to blacken from Will’s fist, her beautiful dark skin marred and puffy. Rage churned inside of me at the sight, surging through me, wiping away all pain, all confusion. With single minded determination, I roared at my bear.

  Now!

  Releasing my hold on him, I allowed him to tear through my clothes and skin, the shift snapping and remolding my bones, my muscles bunching and growing, and fur sprouting. Shooting up off the ground in a blaze of fury, I swiped my large paws at the offending gun, claws raking through the metal, rendering it useless.

  Letting out a blood-curdling roar, I rose up on my hind legs, towering over the man, now tiny and insignificant compared to my animal form.

  The man scurried backward, his eyes wide in terror and face white with shock. Holding shaking hands out in front of his face, he pleaded with me, begging me to spare him. Spouting lies about how sorry he was, how he would never do it again, how he would be a better man.

  The words flowed over me. I understood them, but they didn’t touch me. This man had hurt my mate and abused my cub. Threatened my family. I didn’t care about what he had done to me, but he had to pay for his sins against Amy and Luke. I had to protect them. It was my job, my duty.

  I lurched toward where he cowered, forcing him to back up into a tree, cornering him. With one large paw, I pinned him to the tree, lowering my large head down level with his. I wanted him to see in my eyes, to understand why I was doing this, to see his own death coming.

  Snout to nose, I curled back my lips, baring my teeth, a low growl trickling from my throat.

  A scent wafted to my nose, the pungent stench of fresh urine. Glancing down, I noted the dark stain spreading down the man’s leg. Good. He should be scared, like he had scared Amy and Luke.

  I tightened my grip on the man’s neck, claws curling into his fragile windpipe, cutting slowly. The metallic tang of blood floated through the air, coating my tongue.

  The man—Greenway, my human mind insisted on calling him—stared back at me, all panic gone, resigned acceptance in its place.

  “Ryan,” a man’s voice called from behind, calm and clear.

  Who? I glanced over my shoulder, shocked to see John standing there, his body relaxed, gun hanging from his fingers at his side. The bear is out of the bag, then. I huffed at him, then turned back to my prey.

  “Ryan,” John repeated, this time a little more firmly. “Let him go. We can take him in, charge him with murder, assault, probably extortion, given some time. You don’t need to do this. You don’t want to do this.”

  I shook my big head, closing my eyes, wishing I could close my ears. I wanted to finish this man, to take away the threat, protect my family.

  “You’re an officer of the law, Ryan. You know this is not the way. Don’t lose your humanity. You don’t want his death on your soul.”

  It was like he was trying to talk me down off a ledge, his words smooth, measured. But I wasn’t crazy. I knew exactly what I was doing.

  I cut a little deeper, relishing with satisfaction the shudder of panic that ran through Greenway’s body.

  “Ryan!” This time a woman’s voice. My mate’s. I would recognize her voice anywhere. It sang to me, heart and soul. I glanced around again, this time unsure of whether I wanted to see, worried what her reaction was going to be. I mean, I was a bear, for fuck’s sake. That had to be a lot to take in, especially with what she had just gone through.

  She looked back at me with shock in her eyes, and confusion. Worry creased her brow, her lips drawn down at the edges. She was worried for Greenway?

  “You’re not a killer, Ryan. You don’t have to do this for me, for us.” She indicated Luke, who was hugged in close to her side, and continued, “Let the law deal with him. You deal with him, but as the Sheriff, not as a—” She broke off, her mind stuttering on what I knew had to be hard to take in, to accept.

  “Bear, Mom. He’s a bear!” Luke sounded happy about that fact. Actually, he sounded delighted, adding under his breath, “That is so cool!”

  Well, at least the kid had accepted my other self. But I wondered if the mom could. Her words sank in, pulling at my humanity, reaching through the rage-coated lust that fired through my veins, clouding my mind. I wanted to kill Greenway, and I didn’t have a problem with that. It was the way of shifters, to protect their families against enemies. But my mate was human. And the law was on my side. I didn’t have to deal out punishment in this way.

  My bear forced a roar of frustration from our throat, our jaw stretching wide, the sound echoing through the forest. He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to let the humans deal with our prey. He wanted to deal out retribution in the only way he saw fit—painting the ground with the blood of our enemy.

  Then he wanted to shift, for me to pick up the woman, carry her to a cave, and take her, make her ours. He didn’t care that she wasn’t a bear—she was ours.

  And she wants us to spare the man. Why? Does she still have feelings for him?

  I needed to be able to talk, I had to know.

  Drawing on my willpower, I shoved the bear back, locking my knees as my bones shifted, fur receding, until I stood as a human, still pinning Greenway to the tree.

  Panting from the forced shift, I wanted to look at Amy, but I couldn’t face her. I was scared of what I might see.

  “Why do you want to spare him?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  ***

  Amy

  It was a lot to take in and my mind reeled with shock. One minute, Ryan had been lying on the ground, blood pouring from the two bullet wounds, unable to move, Will standing over him, raising the gun. Then, in a matter of seconds, a great, big, fucking bear had risen up in his place, his dark fur coated with blood, snarling and terrifying.

  I had glanced back at the ground. Yep, Ryan was gone, his clothes a pile of tattered rags scattering across the snow. Which meant—. At first, my mind had blanked, refusing to accept what it had just seen, what it knew to be true. But, when the bear had looked at me, its eyes swirling with silver, I had known. Ryan’s eyes, I would recognize them anywhere, and buried in their depths—Ryan’s soul. And I had accepted the truth, as strange as it was, as unbelievable as it was! I loved Ryan, all of him, which meant this part of him, too. Or at least, I would, once I had time to wrap my head around the idea. The logistics of it, the hows and whys. Jeez, my head hurt, just trying to figure it all out.

  Luke nudged me, breaking into my thoughts, and I realized I had managed to tune out the bear—Ryan!—pinning Will against a tree. Wow, I had tuned out a bear! I smothered a manic giggle, sure it was the first sign that I was going mad.

  Luke’s face was one of pure rapture, his expression openly excited, and not a worry in sight. Not that I blamed him for not worrying about his father. Will had never spared Luke an affectionate word, let alone any real love. But then again, I don’t think Luke grasped the gravity of the situation and what Ryan might to do. I certainly wasn’t worried about Will. He was getting a dose of his own medicine for once.

  Luke muttered under his breath, the only word I caught being camera, and I bit back a smile, despite the circumstances. One track mind, my kid.

  Focus! I couldn’t understand why I was having such a hard time concentrating on what was happening in front of me, but I felt disconnected, like there was nothing to worry about. Like this was normal, natural.

  Crimson droplets dotted the snow, and I saw that Ryan had Will gripped in his claws, his large furry head inches away from Will’s.

  “Ryan,” a voice called from the left of me. John! He had finally caught up. What had taken him so long? He continued to talk, the words buzzing around in my head, insignificant, until something registered.

  “Don’t lose your humanity. You don’t want his death on your soul.”

  The words echoed in my ears, snapping me out of the fog that had surrounded me, sucking me in.

  “Ryan!” the words flew from my lips. I had to stop this, sa
ve him from himself. I couldn’t let him do this, not for me, or for Luke. “You’re not a killer, Ryan. You don’t have to do this for me, for us. Let the law deal with him. You deal with him, but as the Sheriff, not as a—” Was it okay to call him a bear? I stumbled, wondering what the correct term was.

  Luke supplied the word that had refused to come. ““Bear, Mom. He’s a bear!”

  Ryan stared at me, his big eyes swirling with silver. I wanted to walk over to him, pull his big, furry head down and hug away the confusion I saw gazing back. He wouldn’t hurt me, even as wound up as he was. Inside, he was still the same man that had joked with me at the bakery and brought my son home safely in a storm. The same man who had eaten all my sandwiches and held me close at night. Brought me to the heights of passion, thrashing and clenching under the covers. Tucked me up warm in his coat, while risking his life for Luke.

  The air shimmered around him, his body changing, remolding into one I knew well. His golden curls were plastered to his skull, his skin coated in sweat and blood as he stood naked in the snow, his biceps bunched as he held Will pinned against the tree.

  Ryan didn’t turn around, his voice gruff over his shoulder. “Why do you want to spare him?”

  I could hear the trace of uncertainty, the shadow of doubt the words couldn’t mask. He was scared! The realization shocked me. This big, strong man—who could turn into a bear, for Christ’s sake—was scared. Because of me. Because of what I might say! Because of what he thought I might want.

  I took a step forward, nodding at John when he moved to stand with Luke. Ryan didn’t move, but his shoulders tensed as he picked up on the sound of crunching snow. Feeling bolder, I took another step forward, then another, ignoring the pleading, wide eyes that Will was throwing at me. He could rot in hell for all I cared, but he wasn’t taking Ryan with him.

  No, Ryan was staying with me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ryan

  I could hear her moving closer, her sweet smell drifting to me on the slight breeze, and I dreaded what she might say. But I needed to hear it.

  She stopped inches away from my back, her heat searing into my skin as she laid a delicate hand on my shoulder.

  She was touching me! Did this mean she wasn’t scared? That I hadn’t—?

  “You’re over-thinking things, Ryan,” she murmured. “Of course I don’t want him. I never did, not for a long time. But I want you. Whole, happy. Not burdened with his death. I don’t want us to look at each other and see him, and remember what happened. I told you, I want a fresh start. And that means not letting this touch it.”

  I let out the breath I had been holding as her words sunk in. She was talking about a life together, me and her. My heart leaped into my throat, choking the words I wanted to say.

  “Give him to John; he’ll take him back to the station and deal with him. I want to talk to you. Alone.”

  The last word was a low whisper, weighted with promise, and I loosened my stranglehold on Greenway.

  “I always knew you were a slut! Whoring yourself out to someone who’s no better than an animal! You won’t take—”

  Blood flew from his mouth as I cuffed him around the head, snapping his neck back. “You will never speak to her again! Or Luke! EVER! Or I will find you, and slice you open, right where you stand, you miserable, motherfucking weasel! She is the reason you are still breathing! Do you understand?” I roared at him, pulling him up from his stagger by his lapels, letting the bear flash into my eyes again.

  He was looking at his own death, and he knew it. Trembling in my grip, blood staining his teeth, he nodded frantically.

  “He’s all yours,” I grunted, shoving him at John, who grabbed the stumbling man, fished a pair of handcuffs from his belt, and clamped them on roughly.

  “Let’s go,” he said, shoving his prisoner in front of him. Looking back, he added, “Hey, I just want you to know…I won’t say anything. Ever. Just so you know, I already knew.”

  “How?”

  John looked around, searching for the right words. “I think this is a story for another time, another place,” he eventually said, sounding far older and wiser than I had pegged him. Glancing over at Luke, he added, “I’ll take Luke back with me, if that’s okay with you? And I’ll send someone out for the bodies later; they’re not going anywhere. I think you two have some…talking to do.” He smirked, pointedly not looking at me below chest height.

  Next to me, Amy blushed a pretty pink, then nodded gratefully, reassuring Luke that she would meet him in town.

  Shit! Clothes! I huffed, looking at the pile of rags on the floor. Not only were they torn to shreds, they were soaked from blood and snow. “My place isn’t far from here. I’ll grab something from there before meeting you in town.”

  “Take as long as you need,” John called over his shoulder, giving Greenway another shove and tugging Luke into step next to him.

  “But, I want to…” I could hear Luke’s voice complaining as he trudged next to John, the older man geeing him along gently.

  Amy and I were finally alone, and I had so much I needed to say to her. I turned, opening my mouth, and was nearly knocked over as she threw herself into my arms, her lips seeking mine with a desperation that bordered on frantic.

  Not that I didn’t appreciate her warm, soft body pressed close against mine, but I needed to tell her, to explain.

  Gently untangling my lips from hers, I kept her pressed up against me, our noses touching, our breath swirling together in the brisk air. “I have a lot of things I need to explain,” I started to say, but she silenced me with a cold finger on my lips.

  “You said your place is close to here?” She rubbed herself against me, snuggling closer.

  I swallowed hard, blood rushing to my cock, which, despite the cold, was making a valiant attempt, swelling and lengthening against my stomach.

  “Uh huh,” I mumbled, nuzzling against her ear, smelling the wonderful fragrance which was all Amy. My mate.

  She raked her nails across my naked ass, and my hips jerked forward in response. Maybe the snow wasn’t that cold. If we laid down my coat… I licked her earlobe, biting down softly, my hands scooting up inside her—my—jacket, smoothing over her t-shirt, searching…

  “How close?” Her voice was a breathy pant in my ear, her hips mimicking mine.

  “Very close,” I growled, scooping her up in my arms and sprinting off through the forest.

  ***

  Amy

  I squealed as he lifted me in his arms, hugging him close as he started to sprint through the frozen forest. I had made up my mind. Once the threat of Will had been removed, the weight of the worry that had hung around my neck for so long was gone. I felt as free as a bird. Young and carefree again. Able to choose my own destiny, the road ahead wide open with possibilities.

  And I wanted Ryan by my side. I had gone and fallen in love with the man, so he was coming with me, whatever I decided to do, wherever my adventures took me. He was my partner in crime, whether he liked it or not.

  Luke had accepted him, given him the green light, and Ryan seemed to have genuine affection for my son. Risking his life kind of proved that. Or, at least, I hoped it did.

  Worry started to creep back in, responsibility rearing its heavy head. What was I thinking? I wasn’t carefree, I had Luke to think of, and he always came first. Always.

  “You look so serious. What’s the matter?” Ryan’s voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations traveling through me, stirring my banked passion.

  Looping my arms around his neck, hanging on through the bumpy ride, I stroked the ends of his hair, looping them around a finger, letting the silky strands slip and slide free. Maybe he was right. Maybe we did need to talk. After all, I was sure there were things I needed to know, things about what he was that I needed to consider. For Luke’s sake, and my own.

  I swallowed hard, the longing of wanting to follow my heart at war with my need to be responsible. Sensible.

 
Suddenly we were in the air, weightless, as Ryan leaped high, landing with a thud, his arms cradling me from any jarring. I glanced around, noticing for the first time that we were in front of a large cabin, one made completely from wood.

  Not giving me any more time to notice details, Ryan pushed open the door with his shoulder, striding into what looked to be a living room. Letting me slide from his arms, he deposited me on a large, comfy couch, then busied himself with laying logs in an open hearth, the flames sparking and spitting in minutes.

  Admiring his well-defined back, his muscular ass that I couldn’t help but stare at, I clutched a throw cushion to my chest, waiting for him to turn around. The flames flickered, light and shadows dancing across his skin. His still blood-stained skin.

  “You got shot!” I gasped, remembering the bullets flying, tearing into him.

  He looked over his shoulder, grinning, the corners of his eyes creased with suppressed laughter. “Yeah. I remember,” he said dryly.

  “But, the bullets…”

  “I need to dig them out later. The skin has already started to heal, so it’s gonna hurt.” He shrugged, not seeming bothered by the fact.

  I lurched to my feet, quickly moving over to where he knelt. My hands skimmed over his shoulder, finding the first wound. It was puckered, looking days old, rather than hours. Dreading it, I found the second. It was the same. “We need to get these out now!” I pursed my lips, giving him my best ‘mom’ look. It always worked on Luke.

  He blinked at me, his blue eyes considering. “Are you offering?”

  I gulped. I suppose I was. “Have you got any…tools?”

  “I can get something. But, Amy, you don’t have to. I can do it, later.”

  “When they’re even more healed up? No, they need to come out now.” I nodded firmly, as much to convince myself as him.

  He disappeared into what I guessed to be the kitchen, from the sounds of cutlery rattling around and cupboard doors banging, and returned with a bowl of water, some cloth, and a very large knife. A very sharp, pointy looking knife.

 

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