My Curse to Bear: Standalone BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Everson Brothers Book 1)

by Alana Hart

  “I didn’t. But I didn’t disbelieve, not really. If the Mother of All chose to make some of us witches, then why not shifters? I just…” I broke off, trying to get my head around everything that had just happened.

  “Does it matter what he is?”

  Cassie’s head whipped round.

  “He broke Grandmother’s heart! He doesn’t deserve your pity.”

  “Did he? All we know are the stories we have been told. No one knew her…”

  “We know what happened, Auntie told us…”

  “She told you, you mean. I never met her either! All I know is a bunch of stories, a tale woven to scare little girls away from the big bad shifters. Come on! You can’t actually say you believed that the curse was real? Really?” I stared at her in disbelief.

  “I believed it,” she said, finally.

  “I always thought that part was cruel. Just because he didn’t love her, he wasn’t allowed to find love somewhere else?”

  “He could. With his mate.”

  “And he says that mate is me,” I whispered, hope pinging in my chest.

  “Now, Merrie…”

  “But, how can I trust him? He didn’t mention any of it. Grandmother, shifter, curse…” I continued, pointedly ignoring Cassie’s bleating in the background. I shoved away from the table.

  “I have to go to him,” I declared, knocking the chair over in my rush to stand.

  Cassie rushed to block my way.

  “But you just said, you can’t trust him! Please, Merrie. Don’t do this!” She grabbed my shoulders, her usually calm facade gone, panic clear in her eyes.

  Removing her hands, I grasped them in my own, squeezing them tight.

  “I have to. I’ll know — when I see him — what I want, whether I can. But, no one deserves to live like that — no matter what they did.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, trotting after me as I strode through the shop, toward the door.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I reassured her. “It’ll be alright. I can feel it.”

  ***

  Merrie

  I ran across the street, heading into the forest in the direction I always saw Craig take when he ran off. He was going to be straight with me this time, and if he wasn’t…well, then I would know. Brushing low hanging branches out of the way, I stepped over tangles of exposed tree roots, my feet sinking into piles of leaves that were already starting to fall, covering the forest floor. The light grew muted, a duskiness creeping in, as the towering trees formed a canopy, filtering the sun and absorbing the sound of my footsteps.

  My run slowed to a trudge, as I followed the faint path indicated by flattened vegetation. I sent a quick prayer to the Mother that I didn’t get lost in here — that I would find him.

  Did he really want me? Or was it that I reminded him of Grandmother Meridith? The questions circled in my head, threatening to drive me mad. Would I know if he told me the truth?

  The path curved around a long-ago fallen tree, splitting into two forks. Which way? I hesitated, eyeing left, then right. Both looked possible. I pointed a finger. Eenie-meenie-miney-mo.

  That one, then.

  I took a step forward, only to be rocked to a sudden stop by an ear-deafening roar, shattering the muted silence of the forest.

  Huh. The other way, then.

  I turned and started up the right-hand path, toward the sound of a giant, pissed off bear. I’d be pissed off too, I decided, scanning my surroundings carefully for Craig, if I’d suddenly been forced into celibacy. A strong, handsome man — oops, shifter — like him. Fully functioning, he must’ve been fighting off the women. My heart sank a little, as I swatted at a blood thirsty fly that was happily munching away on my arm.

  The thick vegetation started to thin as the forest gave way to a clearing, obviously man-made, in which a small cabin stood. And a rather large, brown bear. He was the size of a small car, with thick muscles rippling under bristly fur. Paws the size of dinner plates, tipped with long, sharp claws paced the ground, marking wide circles in front of the cabin.

  Craig! I sucked in a breath. He was magnificent.

  Freezing, the bear — Craig — slowly turned his head, his silver eyes widening in shock. Lifting his snout, he sniffed the air delicately, then cocked his head at me, clearly asking me what I wanted.

  Clearing my throat, I started toward him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I knew that at least.

  “I…I just wanted to say, to tell you…” I froze in my advance as the bear reared up onto his back legs, his front legs high in the air, claws flashing. Stretched out, he stood at least seven feet tall, packing several hundreds of pounds of solid bear. I swallowed, steeling my spine. He wouldn’t hurt me — I’m his mate, I repeated to my self firmly.

  The air seemed to shimmer around him as he growled, a low throaty sound. Before my eyes, the fur started to recede and muscles reformed, molding and curving into a shape more familiar, the one I loved.

  Now, where the hell had that come from! Love?

  In a matter of mere seconds the bear had gone, and a slightly dirty Craig stood in his place, naked as the day he was born. A sheen of sweat coated his skin, the sunlight playing on the ripples of muscles that covered his torso, the deep dips and grooves bunching and shifting as he stalked toward me.

  I had thought he was handsome, as sexy as sin when seeing him clothed — but nude? He was a work of art. I gulped, my tongue surely hanging out. As he prowled forward, I realized that he was fully on display — and I mean fully. His cock was thick and swollen with his need, a gorgeous specimen. I clenched my thighs together, my pussy pulsing in response.

  “You were saying?” he asked in a rough voice, breaking the silence.

  Pulling my eyes up to his face, I suppressed my hormones, gathering my thoughts together.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? All of it? What I don’t understand is — if I’m your mate, why didn’t you trust me?” I hated that I sounded petulant, but dammit, he should have trusted me!

  “I wanted to. I tried.” He dragged a hand roughly through his hair, looking up at the sky as though searching for answers.

  “I should have,” he admitted, finally.

  “So, why didn’t you?” I asked softly, taking a hesitant step toward him, drawn to him like a bear to honey.

  He clenched his fists, agony clear on his face.

  “I…I find it hard to trust. After what happened. And you looked…yeah well, I have an ingrained distrust of witches, you could say. A dislike,” he admitted.

  I stumbled back, his words hitting me like blows to my chest, to my heart.

  “Shit! Don’t go! I just…didn’t want to risk it. Losing you, I mean. I had to learn to…”

  “To trust me? Or to like me? Like me enough to be your mate?” Anger lit through me now. I was sick of not being good enough!

  “No! Please, Merrie. I like you plenty. In the Mother’s name — I’m falling in love with you! I just didn’t know if I could.”

  Didn’t know if he could? Liking me was a chore? I seethed inside.

  “Because I’m a witch?” I ground out.

  “Partly…”

  I marched up to him, poking his broad — unfairly gorgeous, I decided — chest with my finger.

  “If I can accept you for who and what you are — no questions, no reservations — why can’t you accept me?”

  “I can! I have. Did you not hear me, you foolish woman? I love you!” He roared the declaration into the silence of the forest, startling nesting birds from trees, and sending them crying into the sky.

  Whoosh. Sucker-punch. “You…you do?”

  ***

  Craig

  She stood locked in place, as I slowly and cautiously closed the gap between us, giving her amazing mind time to process what she had just heard. What a fiery, confusing, compassionate woman the Mother of All had given me. Merrie frustrated me to distraction, yet beguiled me, so that I wanted to bring her the stars and the moon, just to see her s
mile and hear her laugh.

  Reaching her, I stopped mere inches away, our bodies nearly touching with each inhale of breath.

  “I love you, Merrie,” I repeated, hooking my finger under her chin and tilting her head, so I could stare into her apple-green eyes.

  Happiness bloomed on her face, her lips parting in a smile. Her scent sweetened, hardening my cock even more. The throbbing need to be inside her, gripped by her tight sheath, burned through my veins.

  “You do? Really?”

  My bear paced beneath the surface, itching to taste and lick.

  Soon, I sent to him, as eager as him — if not more.

  “Of course I do,” I took her hands, holding them against my chest in emphasis. “My heart is yours, my mate. The bond has already started, we are destined to be together.”

  Spreading her small hands across my chest, she stroked softly, an expression of wonder lighting her face. Jeez, that felt good. Even with just the lightest touch…my hips jerked in response, seeking a similar stroking. Rumbling vibrated in my chest, animal and man merging, both wanting the same thing.

  She started, her eyes wide. “Is that your bear?”

  “Both of us. We both want you…”

  Her gaze dropped, lower, then lower.

  “I think I owe you something,” she murmured, never raising her eyes, and dropping suddenly to her knees. Wrapping her hand around the base of my cock, she slowly licked a long, wet line from base to tip, twirling her tongue around the head, before opening her beautiful lips, and guiding me inside, into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth.

  A groan tore from me, my head lolling back, as I rested my hands on her shoulders, fists brutally clenched to repress the urge to grip and control. Sweet Mother! Colors flashed in front of my eyes, my sight blurring, as synapses fired all over my body. It had been so long… Too long! Quickly, I pulled myself away, cutting off the building pleasure that threatened to be over, before it had even begun.

  “What?” She looked up at me, confused, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

  Inside! Now! My bear roared, and my muscles tensed, threatening to shift.

  Clamping down on the urge, I leaned down, swept her up into my arms, and launched myself at the door to my cabin.

  Yes, inside. Now.

  ***

  Merrie

  Scooping me up as if I weighed nothing more than a feather, he sprinted toward the small cabin that stood in the center of the clearing. Snuggling into his warm, hair-dusted chest, I breathed deeply, allowing the scent of him to fill me and chase away any lingering uncertainties.

  He loved me. Not anyone else. Me.

  Gripping me tight, he threw open the door, his long strides eating up the room, his path never faltering.

  Straining my neck, I peered around, taking in the worn, comfortable looking furniture dotted around what looked to be a living room, all centered around a large, open fireplace. Scattered around the room were large lumps of wood, half carved and haphazardly placed next to chairs, couches, and stools.

  “What are?”

  “Later,” he replied, glancing down at me for the first time. Lust burned in his eyes, raw and powerful. He must have seen signs of trepidation in my face because he paused in his path, adding in a voice gruff but sweet, “It’s been a hell of a long time, Merrie. I...I need you.” He flushed under his tan, giving me a wry smile. “Try not to judge, hey? And…the mating bite…I promise to be gentle…”

  I ran my finger down his cheek, the stubble of his jaw abrading and tickling. Plucking up some courage, I answered, “I want you too.” Great. Now we were both the color of tomatoes. Very sexy.

  Catching my finger with his teeth, he sucked the digit into his mouth, eyes locked on mine. With an audible pop he released it, kissing the tip.

  “I want to taste you again, lap up that sweet, sticky honey,” he growled.

  I gasped, realizing what he meant, moisture flooding my core.

  “But I can’t wait, not this time,” he said on a groan, leaning down and kissing my parted lips, teasing and tasting. Panting, our breath joined, hot and swirling. He pushed open another door, and this time I didn’t care where we were.

  Softness cushioned my back as he laid me down, following me, and blanketing me with his burning heat. Twisting my fingers up into his hair, I gripped the golden strands, pulling and teasing.

  His hands skated up, outlining my hips, then my breasts. He suddenly pulled away.

  “Too many clothes,” he muttered, urging my top up, over my head, then pushing my plain workout pants down.

  Giggling, I wriggled, kicking off my shoes and pushing with my feet at the clinging spandex, until I was free.

  He let out a string of expletives, an expression of torture on his face.

  “Shit, woman. Your wriggling is killing me!”

  I was suddenly hyper-aware of the thickness nestled against my stomach, hot and satin smooth. A primitive need shot through me, a clenching of emptiness. The need to have, to be taken — to mate with this man.

  “Inside me, now,” I demanded, shocked to hear the words spill from my lips. But I had to…I was burning…my head thrashed as my hips bucked off the bed, my body a rag doll controlled by desire.

  “Shhh, Merrie. It’s the mating bond, you’re feeling an echo of my bear, of his need,” Craig explained, gently brushing my hair to one side. Cupping my breast, he thumbed the painfully erect nipple. “We haven’t had time for…”

  “No foreplay! No teasing. Please! I need you…next time…” I panted, ready to throw him over and climb aboard myself, if he didn’t get a move on. Digging my nails into his sides, I rocked against him, rubbing myself against his thigh.

  “Fuck,” he growled, rearing up onto his knees, pushing my legs wide.

  “Next time…”

  He grabbed my thighs, tilting my pelvis and I caught a glimpse of his straining cock. “Yes…” I hissed greedily.

  Clamping my hips in his big hands, with one smooth thrust, he stretched me, filling me completely. My back arched off the bed, an overload of sensations spilling through me. And then he stopped, poised at withdrawal.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse with need.

  “More than,” I gasped, willing him to start moving. I needed him to move, I was so close, just from one stroke!

  Withdrawing to the tip, he thrust back inside, tilting his hips to angle his stroke, hitting just the right spot, before pulling back, and thrusting again. In and out, our bodies joining and arching, he held me open, positioned so that he could stroke and slide over every delicate nerve ending. Sweat glistened on both of us, as my muscles strained and quivered to keep up with the punishing pace he was setting. A low growl filled the air, an answer to my moans.

  “You’re mine.” He pushed deep inside of me, his broad chest heaving, and his shoulders straining. He looked like a conquering sun God, golden and brutish.

  “Yours,” I replied, a whisper as the breath left me. My lungs were on fire, every breath ragged. My pussy clenched around him, resisting his withdrawal, as my hips bucked in his hold, chasing his retreat. So close! Mouth falling open, I let a wave of weightlessness carry me, spinning toward the rush of pleasure, and tipped over the edge, shooting up, and up.

  With a roar, he picked up his pace, slamming into me, his body convulsing and straining. He leaned down, baring his teeth, his eyes on my throat. This was it — he was going to mark me, claim me.

  Tilting my head, I offered myself to him — I was his, he was mine – and braced myself for the sting. Floating back down to earth, the endorphins carrying me in a foggy stupor, realization seeped through.

  The sting had never happened. Sure, he had finished. I could feel the telltale stickiness between my legs, along with the ache that came from good sex. But he hadn’t marked me. He hadn’t taken me as his mate.

  What the fuck?

  I started to shake, his heavy weight sprawled on top of me suddenly suffocating rather than comforting.


  “Get off me.” My voice was as cold as the ice starting to form around my heart. He didn’t move.

  “I said — get off me!” I screamed, my lungs burning from the desperate need to fill with air. Clean air. As far away from him as possible.

  “Merrie, I…” he said, rolling off the bed, his expression a mixture of devastation and horror.

  I leapt off the bed, grabbing my clothes and shoving them on.

  “You what? You’ve broken your eighty-seven year dry spell, and you didn’t even have to take a mate to do it!” My hands shook as I pulled on my T-shirt. I’d trusted him.

  Fool.

  “I didn’t mean…I tried… Fuck!” He cursed under his breath, pulling his jeans back on. He moved in front of the bedroom door, blocking my escape.

  “I really thought I was over it…but. Shit!”

  I blinked furiously, trying to hold onto some pride. I felt used, cheap. I hugged my arms to my chest. He didn’t love me. Did he even want me? Or was I just the only woman he could have? Well, not anymore.

  “Well, I’m over you. I don’t ever want to see you again. Ever,” I bit the words out, begging myself to hold on, to just wait until I was alone, then I could crumble.

  “Now, let me go.”

  “Merrie, please…We could…”

  “If you even think of saying ‘try again’, I will personally do you enough damage that eighty-seven years wouldn’t be long enough to heal from…” I drew myself up as tall as I could, purposely sketching witchy looking symbols in the air. He probably didn’t know enough to know I was faking. At least, I hoped he didn’t.

  Paling beneath his tan, Craig visibly gulped, taking a stumbling step to the side.

  Looking at his face, and his reaction — that of deep-rooted terror — I forced myself to see the truth. It would never work.

  I swept past him, leaving the cabin. I didn’t look back. I had given him my heart, but I deserved more. I deserved someone who really loved me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Merrie

  The walk home passed in a blur, my legs operating on autopilot, while my mind burrowed into a state of cocooned self-preservation. Throwing open the door to the shop, I stumbled over the threshold. All I wanted was to crawl into my bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep for at least a year.