Alphas of Storm Isle (Complete Boxed Set: Books 1-5): Werebear Shifter Menage Romance

by Sophie Chevalier

  “Yeah?” he asked, a little bit chuffed.

  “I love you. I seriously do.”

  He gazed at her. Then, finally, he kissed her again; his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb on her jawline, made her skin tingle.

  “I believe you,” he murmured, his lips on hers. “I completely believe you. I just didn’t realize this was happening.”

  “What’s this?” she whispered, half-kissing him while she spoke. “Dane acted like this made sense to him, too. But I don’t…”

  “It’s a bear thing.” He sucked her bottom lip for a minute. “Not common, but not rare as rubies either. Shit. So that’s what’s going on.”

  “What is it, though? I—”

  “I’m crazy about you, Ginger. And I’m pretty sure it’s a permanent condition.”

  “Hunter… what’s hap—”

  “Don’t go through with this, baby. Baiting Gunnar.”

  She chewed her lip, blindsided afresh. “I have to.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll sail you all the way to Vancouver right now. Hell, further than that. Puerto Vallarta. Athens. Singapore.”

  “I want to help.”

  He sighed. “I know you do, honey. You’re a goddamn decent person.”

  She gripped the halves of his open jacket. “Stay close to me tonight.”

  “I will. Come spend the night on my boat.”

  “No. You’ll sail me away somewhere.”

  He laughed; her stomach filled with something warm and sweet, like cherry liquor. “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Swear.”

  “I swear. I don’t like your fucking decision, Ginger. It cuts me up inside like broken glass. But I won’t get in the way. It’s your right to choose your course, just like Torin said.”

  She gave him a melting look. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. If I were a worse man who was also weirdly better, I’d kidnap you and put you off at Nice. Take you awhile to get back from that.”

  She kissed him, loving the taste and the heat of it. “I want—I want to sleep in your bed.”

  “Sure. I want that too.”

  Dane’s face broke into her thoughts. “Wait, though. I have to—I’m not sure, I—I have to tell… what is happening?”

  “MacAlister understands,” he said gently. “Even I understand now.”

  “But I don’t.”

  He sighed. “We’ll talk about it. After everything is over.”

  “No.” The ocean sighed in the night, the waves hissing in and out. “We’ll talk about it now. Tonight.”

  He tucked some of her hair behind her ear with deliciously calloused fingers. “Alright, baby. Tonight. Come on—let’s get back to Miss Grizzly.”

  ***

  “I’m not sure if this will make sense to you,” he said, handing her a mug of something alcoholic-smelling where she sat cross-legged and half-naked on his berth, wearing only her panties and one of his flannel shirts. “It’s a bear thing and—”

  “Wait. What is this? What’s in here?” she asked, holding up a silencing hand.

  “In there?” He half-smiled, dizzyingly handsome. “Guess.”

  “I don’t know.” She sniffed the mug. He’d poured whatever it was out of an unlabeled bottle. “Some kind of… sherry?”

  “Yep. Andres Golden Cream. Canadian. British Columbian. Super, super fucking cheap.” He toasted her mug with his. “Not exactly whatever MacAlister has on tap, but hey, at least it won’t give you the dry heaves.”

  She tried it, curious. He watched her down a lot in one swig.

  “Huh. I kinda like it.”

  “That’s my girl. Oughta take you out on the water for November fishing.” He downed some of his. “Ahh. Not bad, really, is it?”

  “So. This thing.”

  “Sure. This thing.” He hesitated, watching her. “Well, Ginger… eh, shit. I’ll just be blunt with you.”

  “It’s worked for you so far.”

  He half-smiled again; she put a hand on his thigh, and he put his hand over it.

  “Okay. Well… we’re animals. I know you know that, but part of being an animal is—well, it’s forming interesting bonds that vanilla humans may not really have access to. Like the clan bonds. It’s not like humans can’t feel strongly about their group, it’s just that our feelings are closer to a wolf pack’s bond than anything human. Same with this. It’s animal; it’s unique.

  “Sometimes… sometimes a bear takes two mates. We have strong appetites and strong needs. I’m talking about shifter triads, Ginger. Are you following me? A man with two women; a woman with two men; other combinations, maybe, but whatever, you get the idea. We’re lusty creatures, Ginger. Wild. Feral. Actual grizzlies fuck like you wouldn’t believe, and they take more mates than you could shake a stick at.

  “Now, we’re also human, so like most humans, most of us live monogamously. But the animal half can be strong enough in a shifter that they fall in love with more than one partner. Those needs that the grizzly has burn hot in that shifter. They’re needs that can’t be controlled and they can’t be removed. They just are. It’s something we accept.”

  “You’re telling me when Dane made me a bear, he made me—what, unable to be faithful? Unable to love one man? Promiscuous?” she asked, her stomach dropping. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “We don’t really see it that way. Remember: animals. We’re animals. It means we have different needs from humans. We accept that we have to fish and hunt and wrestle, so why wouldn’t we accept that some of us need more than one mate, just like a wild bear? It’s natural. There’s nothing wrong with you. A shifter like you is ‘faithful’ when they’re faithful to their triad.”

  “I was always a one-man woman, Hunter…”

  “And you never ate clams raw out of the sand, either,” he cut in smoothly. “You can’t hate yourself over this.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He ran a big hand through her hair. “Thanks, baby. I won’t lie: sharing with MacAlister… I don’t know. But I love you like I’ve never loved any other woman, and if you told me to jump off the Skytree I probably would, so…”

  She set down the mug, and then lay down so her head was in his lap.

  “I owe you a lot, Hunter,” she whispered, curled up close to him. He petted her. “You showed me I could live like this. The time we’ve spent together is priceless. So why can’t I just love you?”

  “Is that what you want? To just love me? You really wish you could stop loving MacAlister?”

  “I… no. That’s not what I wish. I don’t know what I wish. I just don’t understand myself like this.”

  “You’re a bear, Ginger,” he said, his thumb stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed. “An animal. What’s wild in you isn’t evil. Accept it.”

  She was dozing off, spent. “I’ll try.”

  “Sleepy, huh?”

  “Mmm-hmm…”

  “Okay. That’s fine. You’re safe here.”

  She knew that. She trusted him like she’d never trusted another man—except Dane.

  Chapter 4

  “You’re sure you know your script, Ginger?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” She shot Dane an arch look. “You think I lost some IQ points overnight?”

  “Never. Nerves talking, that’s all.”

  She put a hand flat on his lower chest, the hardness of his abs clear through his sweater.

  “I know. And no, I haven’t forgotten the script, and I haven’t forgotten the plan.”

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed. “I adore you, Ginger. Please be careful.”

  “I will be. I adore you too.”

  “Kiss me.”

  That was an order she was happy to follow. Raising up on tiptoe, she kissed him full on his delicious, cedar-y mouth. His almost-blond stubble prickled the soft skin of her face.

  “I won’t be far,” he murmured when they’d finished. “Scream and I’ll come.”

&nbs
p; He couldn’t get too close, or the wind would give his scent away.

  “Okay. I will.” She traced the proud, masculine shapes of his features with her fingers. He let her. “I’ll be fine, Dane.”

  “Yes,” he said, more to convince the two of them than as a statement of fact.

  There were other bears there—men mostly—who would wait back in the woods until they heard the signal to attack from the bears scaling the cliffs. Ginger was supposed to be the great distraction that would keep Gunnar and his people occupied while they did it.

  “Go on, girl,” growled Torin. “Go and draw his eye.”

  “See you soon,” Ginger whispered to Dane, and then she slunk off through the fern-and-sapling undergrowth, heading for Gunnar’s camp.

  ***

  It was an overcast day, partly from drizzle and partly from smoke, and she felt heavy as she went. The forest smelled hazy and bitter, and the huckleberry she pressed through was dry.

  She could smell bears ahead—and smell Gunnar.

  I can’t believe this evil fucker burned this island. I can’t believe he’s convinced people to kill each other. And for what? Some fanatical view of bear purity? Some obsession with old laws? Laws no one even really wants to follow anymore? There’s been blood spilt over this shit!

  She broke through a patch of lady fern, expression set.

  I’m going to make sure this ends. I’ll play my part to the hilt.

  A couple of bears appeared: shaggy, tousle-furred brown bears. They chuffed and snorted threateningly, and then one shifted into a man.

  “You, girl. Changeling girl. Why are you here alone?”

  She stopped where she was. “To offer myself to your Alpha. Take me to him.”

  ***

  Gunnar sat in the center of his camp, a fire of dry moss and wood shavings burning by his feet. When he saw her being led in from the forest, he stood up.

  “It’s you,” he said, breathing deep as if to drink her scent on the air. “I dreamed you would come.”

  “I guess you dreamed right,” she said, one of his men pushing her closer to Gunnar. The feel of the alien hand on her back, right between her shoulder blades, made her tense up with anger.

  “I did, as I always do. But the dream did not tell me why you would come, or what luck you would bring.” He leaned in and sniffed close to her neck. “So why are you here, girl?”

  She swallowed. “To offer myself to you.”

  “To… offer yourself? Is that so?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Why? You hate me, girl—let’s not pretend otherwise. Why would you come to me like this?”

  “I came to barter myself. I’d trade myself to buy the lives of the men who love me—you know which men I mean. Would you accept that?”

  He considered her slowly, then lifted one of his small, paper-skinned hands to her throat. “You come to be my mate, girl? On those terms?”

  His dry fingers stroking her neck made the bile rise in her stomach, but she held it down. “If you’ll accept them.”

  “You’d bind yourself to me for the sake of MacAlister and Beaumont?”

  “Yes.” Everywhere he touched her, he left a cold trail; her skin tingled unpleasantly.

  “Why do you think I would have you?” he hissed, his voice dropping to a serpent’s whisper. “You? After you spurned me? You spurned me, you proud, foolish creature. Why would I want you now? You’re willful and silly.”

  “Silly?” Rude-ass fuck. “Don’t I tempt you?” she asked, forcing her voice to sweeten, dropping it to a murmur. “Don’t you want me? Don’t you want my… submission?”

  He growled, a weaker sound than Hunter or Dane would make. His flat-palmed hand slid down her neck and her front to rest on the plump swell of a breast. Nasty. Her nipple hardened, but from cold disgust, not desire; the back of her neck burned.

  “I do want you, girl,” he breathed. “And your submission. What man wouldn’t want you? All this soft skin… this bright hair… this scent… You smell as sweet as raw vanilla, girl. I want to devour you where you stand!”

  Ginger glanced down and saw that his stubby cock was hardening under his tunic of tanned skin and fur. Unimpressive size. After Hunter and Dane’s massive endowments, he would never satisfy her.

  “So lovely,” he whispered, running a thumb down her nose, onto her lips. “Gorgeous, gorgeous thing. Would you take care of my needs, girl? Would you defer to your Alpha?”

  Repulsive. But agree to anything. Distract him. Buy time.

  “For their sake.”

  “So then you know I’ll win this, girl. You know I’ll defeat the clans. That’s why you came to ransom for their lives before it happens.”

  “Yes.” She wanted to flinch away from his sour smell.

  He squeezed her breast—hard, much too hard. “Come into the cave, girl. Show me your compliance.”

  “Now?”

  “Do they know you’re here? Your men? I smell them on you.”

  “No.” She held his eyes to prove her honesty: Don’t let him know it’s a lie.

  “Come into the cave. I’ll mate you right now. I’ll give you a new scent to wear.”

  She wanted to throw up on him, but that wasn’t an option. She was here to hold his attention—any way she could.

  Submissively, she flicked her eyes to the ground, then up again. “I will, but only if you promise to show mercy to—”

  “I promise nothing. But if you please me, I may be prepared to grant you a favor.”

  A hot, strange anger surged inside her—an animal anger, something she’d never felt before. It made her skin prickle like she was about to break out in fur; her fists closed, and her fingers throbbed like they might grow claws.

  There’s too many, Ginger. This is his camp and you’re surrounded by his people. If you change now and lose it, they’ll slaughter you.

  “I’ll please you the best way I know how,” she said quietly.

  “Ahh. But I do not have the same tastes as your other lovers.” He took his hand off her breast to work it up under her sweater. The sensation of his chapped, cold fingers pinching her nipple was nauseating. “Do you think you can satisfy a man whose desires are… harder?”

  “Harder?” she asked, unsettled.

  “More… brutal.”

  She didn’t even want to imagine. Hunter better scale those cliffs fast.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good girl. You, and you, watch the cave front! The rest of you guard the wood fringe. You all know MacAlister is soft as cheese for this girl!” He suddenly gripped her hair—hard—and yanked her close to him, the sinew in his thin arm popping. “You know he’ll come for her. And when he does it may be our chance to finally—ahh, but you’re suing for his life, aren’t you, girl? Maybe we won’t kill him, then. Maybe we can just… blind him, or… lame him, or… banish him, if he’ll respect the banishment.”

  “He will!” Ginger said, with convincing anxiety. “Please! Give me a chance to please you and—”

  “Alright, girl. One chance.” He laughed, a dark, lewd sound. “Come into my cave.”

  “Yes. I will.”

  He pulled her hair even harder, hard enough that he came close to ripping some out. “Yes,” he repeated, gazing at her like she was a red, juicy steak. “Yes. You must.”

  And then he was dragging her across the clearing, underneath the overhang of a cave, and back into its shallow curtain of shadow. People in the clearing could still see her; the increase in privacy by moving inside was not impressive.

  Great.

  “Strip, sow,” he ordered, and she heard the arousal in his voice. “You’re not MacAlister’s now! You’re mine, and you’ll do as I say!”

  “Yes,” she said, feigning panic. “Yes, I will.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Yes, master,” she said, the word tasting bad in her mouth. “I’ll strip.”

  She raised her sweater up over her head, but it must not have been fast enough for him, because suddenly
he was tearing the clothes off her, growling and snorting.

  “You won’t wear clothes from now on, sow. You’re mine! You live to delight me, nothing more, and clothes do not delight me. Whenever I wish it, you’ll spread those lovely legs and offer yourself to me. Won’t you? Won’t you, sow?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, still faking distress. Inside, though, she was oddly calm. He didn’t scare her as much as she’d expected him to—as much as he’d used to—and somehow she felt cooler and more collected in his presence than she ever had. Why? “Whatever you say.”

  “I say get on your knees. On your knees!” With no warning, he slapped her hard across the face. The crack of it echoed off the cave stone.

  The slap shocked her—but it didn’t scare her. All she felt was rage. Rage. A righteous feral rage that turned her vision red. It was a struggle to control it—a struggle to swallow down the she-bear that threatened to surge to the surface and tear him apart—

  Her cheek stinging, she sank to her knees.

  “Beautiful creature,” Gunnar huffed, his cock at full mast. “You make me hard as steel, sow. No—I change my mind—get off your knees! Stand and undress me. Run your hands over my body. Then there will be time to use that luscious mouth of yours.”

  I’d rather run my hands over a George Foreman grill, but okay. She did what he said, standing—he gripped her around the waist and hissed, “Your skin is like cream, sow”—and untying the cloak off his shoulder. She could feel some of his people watching through the cave mouth.

  “I hope you know what kind of bargain you’ve struck,” Gunnar huffed as she slid his tunic off his arms. “I hope you know, sow. You’ve been accustomed to soft treatment from MacAlister and Beaumont, haven’t you? Nice kisses, nice touches. Nice pleasure. That’s not what I will give you—oh no, not at all. Although there may be some pleasure for you, yes… rough pleasure. Harsh, spiteful pleasure. If you submit to me fully, you might find some joy in it… a bitch’s joy in breeding…”

  He bit her jawline, hard; she stared at the rocky curve of the cave’s ceiling. Anger was hot soup in her stomach, warming her entire body—she had to close her eyes for a minute to keep control.