Dancing Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  She turned back to Nate, and something seemed to have occurred to him in the past couple of moments. “Wait... Did your boss, Konrad... Did he send you to us to make that delivery, without telling you that this pub was inhabited by bear shifters first?”

  Elle stared into her drink. She felt very awkward, not wanting to make her boss sound inconsiderate- which he often could be. And she shrugged finally, but then nodded yes. “Yeah... Sort of...”

  “Good Lord...” said Nate, disgusted. “You must have had the living bajeezus scared out of you by... That!” he waved his hand toward the warring grizzlies, and then added, “Not to mention that...” His hand this time fell upon Roland, who snarled, then Nate turned back toward the bar. “Seymour! Get this poor girl another drink! I dare say she's been through hell of an ordeal throughout the course of this evening so far, and I'm ashamed at the way she's been treated. We need to show her there's more to us than our, ahem, grizzly facades tend to let on...”

  “Oh, God, thank you, but... But that's not necessary, I should be headed back out soon...” Though by the time the words had escaped her lips, the second mug had already been delivered- her first hadn't yet been drained. It occurred to her then that she'd heard that the overwhelming majority of bear shifters were male.

  “Ah, eff Konrad after he's put you through this much with your delivery... If he says anything, just tell him that some of us gave the new delivery girl some trouble. And until then, just kick back here with us, drink your cares away, and watch the show...”

  The show referred to the tumbling, slashing bears in the center of the room, growing weary at this point. Swaying, as though at any moment, one of them might be ready to pass out.

  “Oh God. To be honest,” Elle piped up, “This is all strange for me... I mean... I'm kind of squeamish... Not one for blood sport, or watching creatures kill each other for fun... I mean, if you folks are, that's completely your business, it's just...”

  “Kill each other?” said Nate, incensed by the notion. “Good Lord, they don't kill each other! What do you think we are, barbarians? This is just good sport, no different from a boxing or wrestling match carried out by you humans... They fight until one of them K.O.'s, people place bets on it... But it goes no farther than that...”

  Elle tried her best to trust Nate, take him at his word, and maintain something of an open mind. Thinking that this was the best way of fitting in with those around her, she gave it a shot. She looked over at the fighters pinned up against one another, slashing, pushing, gnawing at one another... And she tried to see it in the same light as those around her did- as sport, and nothing more. The honey beer took the edge off for her and as she became more accustomed to her surroundings. She managed to at least trick herself into thinking she could stomach the viewing. She did, though, feel embarrassed at her constant flinching whenever either of the creatures managed to land a blow on the other. There was no reaction in the countenances of the other bar patrons. They were all presumably seasoned veterans when it came to witnessing such brutality.

  The fight had been going on for some time, she assumed, even before she'd come here. The two grizzlies were full of stamina, a drive to win. She also figured the men witnessing likely had placed rather sizable bets on the winner of the competition. Both parties, as a result, were under rather intense pressure to perform at their best.

  Sooner or later, though, things had to end. In spite of herself, Elle actually had to shriek, spitting some of her beer out. One of the bears had tackled his opponent to the floor, performing what appeared to be the death blow. For good measure, he shook his head around a bit, his jaw still clamped into the opponent's flesh. A way of emphasizing the fact of his defeat, she supposed, on no uncertain terms.

  “We have a winner!” came a triumphant shout from nearby. Half of the bar erupted into a boom of applause. The other half was disappointed at the results. Several reached into their pockets, retrieving the money they owed.

  Elle was stunned. She believed she'd just gotten through witnessing a murder in the name of sport. She felt dizzy, lightheaded, like she needed to throw up.

  “Are you alright?” questioned Nate. He patted her on the shoulder, concerned for her well-being. And though she tried to brush him away, there was no disguising her look of disbelief.

  In a moment, the victorious grizzly stood with his arms raised in a stance of triumph, treating his supporters to a bit of post-game spectacle. He let out a booming roar that made Elle's heart skip a beat, and his body began to shrink, the fur to recede. When the fighter had returned to his human form he was covered in hair. Elle's impulse was to avert her eyes from the man's nudity, his thick hair his only covering at any spot on his body. But then two things occurred to her. For one, no one else in the bar seemed to be offended by the sight of his muscular nakedness. This was nothing a shifter hadn't seen before, and thus shouldn't be deemed as offensive. And what was more, the blood, the wounds, the cuts, were far more troubling sights than his genitals. The latter were completely natural, to be expected- the gashes all over his body, by contrast, made her cringe on his behalf.

  The fighter seemed to care little about the marks across his skin, used to them as he was. His focus, rather, seemed to be on his fallen opponent. Now that the fanfare for him had subsided, he was stooping to the floor, attempting to rouse the fallen grizzly from his stupor. The furry mass began to shrink, to transform, into a vulnerable looking, fleshy mass. Presumably, Elle hoped, it was a sign that the man was still alive.

  “Come on now... Let's get you out of here and cleaned up buddy... That's it... There ya go...” The second naked man was brought up to full height. Once again the bar patrons cheered. This time it was for the defeated party.

  “See? No harm done. It's all in good fun...” said Nate, leaning into Elle.

  “If that's what you want to consider good fun, then more power to you,” she said. She was more confident in her speech than she had been up to this point in the evening with the alcohol in her system. And Nate flashed her a grin. A smoldering grin, one which went a long way in melting her heart in that moment, even if she couldn't explain why.

  The two fighters were making their way across the room. The victor, in full control over his faculties, as the loser limped, slumped over the man's shoulder.

  “Great fight tonight Peter!” called Nate over to the still-conscious fighter. He looked up, smiling with only partial conviction through his bloodied face, and nodded with appreciation. Elle, from the corner of her eye, could spy Argyle and Marco exchanging money behind her back across the counter. They, too, had bet against one another on the fight, and Marco had won out over Argyle.

  At last, Peter and his opponent disappeared behind a door. presumably to get cleaned up and recuperate. Nate gave Elle a meaningful look, as though to say “See, I told you so?”

  Elle couldn't confess to being all that enthusiastic about the notion of bear fights. But she had to at least concede that there was more to these creatures' culture than her first impression, that of sheer brutality. She supposed it might be worth her while, at any rate... To learn and discover more about the way this society worked during this brief and unplanned exposure to their lifestyle.

  As the night wore on, Elle found herself striking up quite the intimacy with the man who'd rescued her from torture or death. The tension, the slight awkwardness of their initial meeting, all but dissolved away as the hours wore on. The two of them found themselves laughing, joking, sharing stories about themselves and their lives. Nate, in particular, seemed quite interested in human culture. Almost more, in fact, than Elle had been interested in his own shifter behavior. And the more she shared, the more the other inhabitants of the pub seemed to grow a liking for her as well. Argyle and Marco had remained silent but curious about their guest for the longest time. But given some time and some warming up to this new guest, they began to feature in the conversation themselves. They were actually, Elle came to realize, quite funny. The two of them struc
k a perfect comedic balance with one another, and caused her to burst out laughing on any number of occasions.

  Hell, at one point, even the grizzly fighters from earlier on in the evening put in an appearance. The two of them welcomed their human guest, who seemed to be gaining an unexpected popularity with the shifters sitting around the bar. The pair seemed like reasonable people, which struck Elle as being odd. She couldn't deduce why the hell they would engage in such a violent spectacle.

  But above all, an intense connection between Nate and Elle continued to grow and strengthen. It positively blossomed throughout the night... Bringing them closer and closer together as the evening progressed. Before Elle knew it, she was falling for this handsome, rugged stud of a bear shifter.

  And throughout the entire evening, Roland, standing in his corner, leered over at Elle like a hawk. He did not once take his spiteful eyes off the girl, a fact which she might have noticed had she not been so focused on Nate.

  Elle and Nate leaned into one another. They put their lips together, and shared an intense, maddening kiss. Elle felt lightheaded. She realized what it was she was doing, and wondered for a fraction of a moment, whether it could possibly be a mistake? But then, the only argument she needed was the taste of Nate's lips. The feeling of his tongue in her mouth. The warmth of his saliva. She didn't know where the hell this would end, but she'd lived so much of her life without ever taking chances. And this, she knew, was something wholly worth gambling on.

  She leaned closer. Kissed harder. She relaxed her body. Her head spun in the utter perfection of this moment. The crowd around her, she could hear, had begun to cheer, to celebrate this most unexpected union. For a moment, as she blushed, she rather wished things had been a bit more private. But it did somewhat gratify her to know that she had the support of the fellow patrons. When at last she pulled away from Nate to stare into his eyes, a smile was spread wide across her lips, a look of triumph, and utter contentment.

  But of course, not everyone in the bar was quite as enthusiastic as the two of them in that moment.

  “Alright... You've had your fun... Time to get your ass out of here...”

  Every face turned to see Roland thundering forward toward the bar from the door. A look of righteous indignation flared in his eyes. A burning passion to eject Elle in as timely a manner as possible, and see the purity of this gathering restored.

  “Roland, hold on...” said Nate, standing up to block his path, but Roland was undeterred. Many of the other men standing around the couple sided with Elle and Nate, but they didn't dare speak up. Roland, after all, was a respected employee of this establishment. He could kick out whomever he so chose, and the other patrons didn't dare attempt to stand in his way.

  “I will not hold on, you son of a bitch... You, you traitor... I let your little whore here make her delivery, just as she'd said she'd come to do... And I've sat around for hours, watching her overstay her welcome... But this is a place for bear shifters and bear shifters alone to congregate in privacy. Not for humans who think like it's nothing that they can just march in and effing own the place... It's time for her to get the hell out...”

  Here, Roland made the decisive move of seizing Elle's wrist. Harder, even, than he had upon her arrival. Nate did not take all that kindly to this.

  “Get your hands off of her!” he yelled. He slammed his hands against Roland' chest, trying to get him to back away.

  But Roland would have none of this, punching Nate in the side of his face.

  It was unclear, at this point, who shifted first. Clothes shredding, skin expanding, teeth and fur and claws erupting. But in an instant, Elle was screaming, crying out, trying to intervene. But Marco and Argyle restrained her, the two of them as stunned as she.

  The grizzlies' violent roars filled the small pub. The sound of it stabbed straight to the hearts of the spectators, causing their jaws to drop as they continued to stare in stupefaction. Elle realized, in the back of her mind, that Nate had been right about the fighters from before. About the notion that it was just in good fun, that no lethal intentions were involved in any way with what they were doing. This, she knew with horror, was real fighting. A genuine wish to murder, to slay, clear in every bite, in every slashing of claws through flesh. Not a single other of the patrons was cheering on either side. No one placing bets. Not a soul engaging in any such morbid fascination. They were all as stunned as Elle. But made it worst of all for her was the fact that, as the grizzlies attacked one another, she had no way of distinguishing them. No way of identifying Nate from Roland. She had no clue who the hell she should be rooting for, and presumably wouldn't know until one of them had succeeded in slaying the other...

  She shrieked, as one of the beasts slammed the other up against the opposite wall. Bones sounded as though they'd just been shattered. The beast doing the pinning down sank his teeth into the shoulder of his victim. The pinned down bear let out a pained roar, then exerted an immense force to outright bowl over his attacker. He succeeded in knocking him to the floor, and it was at this point that he, in turn, managed to pin his opponent down. He slashed a vicious claw across the struggling bear's face, a second roar of pain was let out in return-

  And from that point, things came to a screeching, unexpected halt. Two more loud roars from either side were let out, two extra grizzlies thrown into the ring in the capacity of law enforcement. Seymour, frail and vulnerable looking, stood at the heads of the two entwined grizzlies. The old man exerted a wholly disproportionate level of authority to his stature.

  The fighting beasts froze, the sight of The Honey Pot's owner bringing them to their senses. The man's clout and influence in their community was made wholly evident by the fact of their almost instant bowing to his wishes.

  “I. Will not have. This shit. In my establishment. You two goddamn fuckers disentangle yourselves at once. And I mean NOW! Nate, I suggest that you take your new friend home for the evening... And Roland... You and I are going to have a lengthy discussion in my office, IMMEDIATELY...”

  This was, without question, the final word in the matter. The two men transformed back into their human forms.

  Elle, still tense, breathed the faintest sigh of relief at the sight of Nate having been the one on top. His injuries were the lesser of the two beasts, a shallow impression of bloody teeth marks on his shoulder. Roland, by contrast, had a vicious series of slashes across his face. It was an injury she had difficulty envisioning as ever being healed.

  It made her nauseous, however, to consider it... That the man she'd fallen for could have caused such damage to another being when provoked. And she wished, in that moment, that she could be as far away from the scene of the debacle as possible.

  She got her wish, in short enough order, as Nate conceded to Seymour's wishes. Dressing, and escorting Elle from the premises. Roland, all the while, continued to glare at her until the moment she was out of sight.

  “I'm so... So sorry for that... For all of that... That you had to see me, like that, out of control...” said Nate, after what seemed like an interminable degree of silence under the moonlight.

  “No, no it's... It's fine,” insisted Elle. And she'd wanted to add with enthusiasm that she understood completely. But of course, this wasn't the case at all...

  “It's just... I hope you don't mind me saying so, but I was really beginning to like you...” he said.

  Elle's mouth tingled with the memory of the kiss they'd shared prior to all hell breaking loose. She couldn't help but smile for a moment, in spite of herself. Though of course, the situation, at this point, had become far more complicated than it had been in that sweet, blissful moment. “I was hoping that... Well, I don't know, exactly. I was just hoping that things could, maybe, at least start to go somewhere between us, despite our obvious differences. I didn't want your first impression of my people, and especially not of me, to be of violence, brutality, and losing control... What happened there, tonight- that never happens in The Honey Pot, and I mean ne
ver. Aside from the professional matches, I don't think I've ever seen a fight break out in that bar in the decade or so I've been going there. Or anywhere in the woods, for that matter. I don't know what the hell Roland' problem was tonight, I think he has some sort of vendetta against non-shifters... But of course, I shouldn't have let him get me so worked up, and lose my temper like I did...”