Bearing Up In Wolf Rock (A BBW Bear Shifter Romance) (Wolf Rock Shifters)
Page 1
If you’d like to be informed of future releases and special offers, please sign up:
Carina Wilder's Mailing List
This is the second book in the Wolf Rock Shifters Series, though each is meant as a stand-alone novel. The first is available for $0.99 here:
Winning the Alpha
The first two books of the Billionaires and Curves Series are available here:
Taken With You
Crazy About You
The Way to You
Table of Contents
Introduction
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Introduction
The gunman had worked for days to pinpoint the location of his prey. Everything had led to this moment, when he found himself, at last, staring at their hiding place. He had only to wait a little while longer.
These shifters aren’t nearly as clever as they think, he told himself. They have no idea what’s about to hit them. And it’s going to be glorious.
Another year might pass before his victims appeared before him, but it would be worth the agonizingly long wait when he saw their faces, terrified and confused.
If he had to take them down one by one he’d do it until every last fucking one of their kind was gone.
One
“I think it’s getting worse,” growled Kyla, her light blue eyes narrowing in annoyance as she peered around the pub’s interior. As she leaned forward to speak conspiratorially, long locks of blond hair cascaded in soft waves, partially concealing the look of irritation on her face. She pushed it back, hooking the strands behind her ear for the benefit of anyone approaching. It only seemed fair that they get a chance to see the fuck-right-off expression that she knew she was conveying in spades, and be forewarned before getting too close to a grumpy wolf shifter.
The jostling crowd of curious tourists was cramming itself, like multiple limbs of some enormous, invasive being, into the pub’s already overstuffed main room. Each person who entered seemed to blissfully ignore the lack of space and stifling shortage of oxygen inside the building.
The Lion’s Head had for years been the warm, welcoming locale where members of Kyla’s pack congregated and socialized in the small and, until recently quiet, mountain town of Wolf Rock. This was their hangout, a more human refuge away from the rustic cabin deep in the woods where the official meetings took place and where the senior shifters, including the alpha, resided.
Cam, the pub’s owner and the usual head bartender, was friendly and had always been welcoming to shifters, and although he was making a fortune as a result of the recent influx of out-of-town visitors, even he wasn’t keen on the invasion.
“It’s all because of that fucking TV show,” said Kyla’s fellow pack member Jay, who was sitting opposite her in a state of equal measures of frustration and disdain. “I still don’t know what the hell made anyone think it would be a good idea to tell the whole world about our existence. We’ve become a circus attraction, and not the good kind.”
“What exactly is the good kind?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d sooner be a sword-swallowing bearded lady.”
“Leave it to you to make that sound like a dirty euphemism, Jay,” laughed Kyla, her mood lightening slightly.
“Well, you know that I do like to swallow. Swords, I mean. Big, thick sabres, though; not those thin little epée things.” With that, Jay shuddered in disgust. “Yes ma’am, give me a good broadsword to wrap my lips around any day. Better still, a lance.”
“You are such a man-whore. But before you get talking in detail about blow jobs or offer me far too much information about your love life, let’s get back to the subject at hand.”
With that, Jay clammed up, rolling his eyes under the pretense of his frustration at not getting to discuss the male anatomy further.
“In all fairness,” continued Kyla, taking on the tone of a chastising teacher, “the show was Craig’s idea, so it’s not like anyone but him is to blame. No one had a choice but to go along with his scheme.”
“The benefits of being an alpha,” sighed Jay. “Or ex-alpha, rather. You get to abuse power left and right and apparently no one’s supposed to call you on it. It’s just too bad if someone bigger and stronger finally does, though.”
Their former leader was now long gone, after suffering a humiliating defeat which had displaced him from his position of authority in the pack as well as his status on the TV show. Tristan, his rival, had defied the standard rules of conduct and spontaneously challenged Craig, easily vanquishing him and taking over leadership. The former head wolf had run off with his tail between his legs, quite literally.
And there wasn’t a single member of the pack who wasn’t happy to see him gone.
“I’m so glad we have Tristan, really,” said Jay. “That jackass Craig was nothing more than an opportunist who wanted to become a star. There’s no room in a wolf pack for divas. Unless you count me, of course.”
With that, the slim, dark-haired man pretended to flick back imaginary long, flowing curls of hair and fluttered his eyelashes.
“You’re so good at looking like a woman, it’s scary. Better than me any day.”
“Not a woman, dahling. A queen. It’s not necessarily the same thing.”
“Indeed, my mistake. And what a queen.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” said Jay, blowing his friend a kiss. “But don’t forget; you’re a beauty, with your big eyes and luscious lips. Not to mention luscious hips.”
“Thanks, Jay. I can always count on you for compliments.”
“Well, you are. A big, beautiful wolf of a girl.”
Kyla smiled. She liked Jay’s appreciation of her curves, and that shifters in general liked a woman with some meat on her bones. It was a confidence boost to feel so admired.
“Anyhow,” she said, avoiding further discussion of her looks, “I agree. Thank God for Tristan. He’s doing his best to deal with the fallout, I know. I’m sure if we had it all to do over again he’d nix the whole thing; the show, going public. All of it.”
“The damage has been done though, even though I know this isn’t his fault,” replied Jay. “I suppose we have to make the most of it and just carry on with our lives. But I can’t imagine a fresher Hell than being constantly scrutinized and gawked at by strangers in your own hometown. If I want to be judged I’ll enter a fucking beauty contest.”
Kyla nodded silently. As one of the pack’s only females, she seemed to get more attention than most of the men. This was a result of being curvaceous and voluptuous like her more famous pack mate, Nikki, who’d become the reluctant star of the reality show when she’d discovered her own shifting abilities on air.
Kyla and the rest of the pack had met the young woman while filming took place. Nikki had come on the show thinking herself a simple, uninteresting human and left a half-wolf shifter, which had caused a stir among the pack and the viewing audience alike.
The bonus prize for Nikki was to end up happily mated to the pack’s new alpha, who was working as a producer on the show. The two had found themselves irresistibly drawn together and fate seemed unwilling to separate them.
Ultimately, the drama of it all had made them media sweethearts but no one, including t
hemselves, had anticipated the sort of attention they and their pack would receive in the end.
“You know, I do hate that people treat me like the substitute big girl because Nikki’s nowhere to be found,” said Kyla. “I love her and all, but I wish we could share the pain in the butt that comes with the harassment from strangers. I feel like a grumpy body double.”
“Well, you’re like a princess’s sister, aren’t you? If they can’t have one they’ll happily photograph or talk to the other. It’s your own fault for both having such great asses.”
“Shut up, you,” said Kyla, pretending not to love this sort of talk. “If this constant attention keeps up I’ll be moving this ass of mine to a cave in the hills, hunting bats and foraging for moss and old leaves for nourishment. I hope it stops soon. I hate moss.”
“I hope it stops too. For one thing, you’d smell terrible out there with no shower. That would be the worst crime of all. Plus, the hairy legs. The horror.”
“I’d bring wax. I’m no animal,” Kyla replied, looking around now. “Jesus, they’re still pouring in.”
Her seat at the booth faced towards the door and she could see people in expensive, never-used hiking gear cram their way in, peering around, eager for anyone of her kind that they could ogle and harass.
“It sure didn’t take these people long to figure out that this is where to find us,” she mused. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since the show’s finale but I feel like this craziness has been going for decades. If only there were a decoy pub in town where we could hide out.”
“Wolf Rock’s too small to conceal ourselves in, especially when there are this many tourists around,” said Jay. “And I’ll be fucked if I’m going to start spending my downtime hiding out from these jackals. We should just start an open hunting season where we can chase them for sport through the woods. It would get them some damn exercise.”
“That would be so great. If it weren’t illegal, I’d be all over it.”
“Sadly, the bastards who discriminate against us mutes would just become more vocal about it if we pursued tourists for fun, even if we released them in the end.”
“Mutes,” said Kyla. “I still haven’t gotten used to that word. I’ve never been sure if I should like it or hate it.”
Shifters were also commonly known as shape-changers, or morphs. The more derogatory and ugly term, “mutes,” was short for “mutants,” and had been conferred upon the pack members by what they were realizing was a nasty fringe group of humans. Rumours were circulating that there were anti-wolf and anti-shifter websites cropping up, impossible to regulate because of clever concealment which kept the authorities from pinpointing the location of the sites’ owners and from accusing them of hate crimes. The pack kept a sort of wary ear out, but chose mostly to turn a blind eye since it was an inevitability that someone out there would hate them. Until they felt threatened, Tristan said, they should only worry about what goes on in their own backyard.
On this point, conflict arose frequently within the group, and had done so since before the show had aired. Some members were concerned that society would never be open to accepting them, and there were worries that the show, which was meant to gently introduce the notion of shifters to the world, had done nothing but fuel a sort of fear and rage aimed at their kind.
Until the broadcast, after all, most of the world’s population thought of shifters as they thought of UFOs and unicorns: myths, legends which floated away after they’d been talked about, like a disappearing morning mist, and made for good tales to tell around campfires.
In truth, the term “mute” wasn’t entirely inaccurate. It was, after all, a simple genetic mutation that gave shifters their abilities. Some embraced it from the start. If one was fortunate enough to have parents who brought them up and explained to them what would happen, they anticipated their first change with excitement.
In rare cases, a person who was unaware of the genes would have a violent reaction to an incident or event, causing the genetically enhanced human to change without warning. This was what had occurred with Nikki on the reality show, and she’d experienced the terror of a first change with many witnesses around to watch and gasp in sympathy and horror.
In Kyla’s case, she’d gladly embraced the change as a strength when she came into her abilities. Her wolf offered an escape and a refuge from her human form, which as a child she’d always cursed for its imperfections. She was bigger than most girls and mocked mercilessly for it. But as an animal, scars from youth, bullying and teasing, were shrugged off and all that mattered was an ability to perform; to run, to smell, to hunt. In wolf form Kyla excelled, and she embraced the freedom that accompanied the ability with everything inside her.
Besides that, she’d discovered in her teens that female wolf shifters tended to be her shape; bigger girls than the norm. To be admired by the opposite sex was new to Kyla, and had given her a confidence that rendered her a force to be reckoned with in the pack.
“Well,” she said, sliding a finger over her pint glass, “next time some idiot wolf suggests we film a reality show about our kind, remind me to shoot him and then myself.”
“Agreed. But it won’t happen; not under Tristan’s watch. He’s too protective to make such a foolish decision. He’ll be doing his best to keep things calm and quiet, if I know him.”
Someone had approached their table and Kyla turned to look, her expression of irritation melting into a smile.
“How are things with you two?” asked Cam the bartender, who’d walked over to say hello.
“Oh, you know. Kyla’s grouchy and I’m perfect,” said Jay.
“Glad to hear everything’s as it should be. Hey, did you see that the media’s given your pack a name?”
“Oh? What is it?” asked Kyla, slightly reluctant to hear the answer.
“The ‘Longtooth Pack.’ Seems someone’s impressed by your canines.”
“Well, it could be worse,” said Jay. “They could have called us ‘Craig’s Minions,’ or ‘The Idiot Clan.’”
“True. So have you two been harassed today by the throng?” asked Cam.
“Not so much,” said Jay. “What with Kyla giving everyone the stink-eye.”
“Not everyone, but close,” answered Kyla. “The thing I hate most is when they ask for my autograph. I always want to tell them to lift their shirt up so I can shift and claw my name into their skin, then change back and ask, ‘Is that what you had in mind?’”
“Too bad your human is less aggressive than your wolf. I’d sort of like to see that,” said Cam. “But it wouldn’t be great for business. Anyhow, let me know if you two need anything. You know where to find me.”
With that, he headed back to the bar.
Kyla sipped the last of her beer, glaring sideways at a man who, having seen that they were friendly to Cam, was now approaching their table tentatively. As he came close she growled at him, her teeth extending in a split second into the sharp fangs that had apparently earned their pack its new title. The man got the message and turned on his heels, no doubt to look for friendlier pack members.
“God, I could smell his fear. I hate those ones,” said Kyla.
“I figure that at some point they’re going to get bored of us,” said Jay. “It’s not like we offer anything other than hostility. We’re just a novelty.”
“Well, there are plenty of celebrities who aren’t very interesting but people follow them around like lovesick puppies. They just like to be able to say they met someone famous.”
“Fuck, we’re not famous,” replied Jay. “It’s not like I was ever on camera; I was just the makeup artist. And you were only on screen for a few seconds.”
“Yeah, well unfortunately they don’t seem to care. But I have to say, I’m not surprised you never see Tristan and Nikki in town, being the stars of the show. They’d never get any peace.”
“True, but I don’t think it’s so much to avoid the public eye as to stay in bed,” said Jay. “Those
two fuck like rabid, horny bunnies who’ve taken a bath in a Viagra smoothie.”
“Yeah, they do,” Kyla sighed. “It’s sort of sweet. But God, am I jealous. Sometimes I’d like to kill them both. If I didn’t like them so much I’d consider it.”
“It’s bad form to kill your alpha. You know that. Besides, you’ll get laid sometime soon. I can feel it in my bones. I’d say ‘my bone,’ but you know how it is; that particular member’s not usually all that active when it comes to horny heteros.”
“It’s a good thing these tourists don’t know you’re a flaming he-wolf or you’d become a novelty in and of yourself, cutie,” smiled Kyla.
“Jazz hand shifter,” said Jay as he made the gesture, hands beside his face, shimmering them with splayed fingers. “I’m the most threatening kind of all. A wolf who likes show tunes and sequins.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion near the pub’s front door and the crowd seemed suddenly to part like the Red Sea. Kyla looked over to see what all the fuss was about, and she soon understood.
Two
A man was making his way through the crowd. Normally this wouldn’t be cause for excitement. Well, unless he were Tristan, the pack’s large, now famous alpha. But this guy wasn’t Tristan, and nor did he look like he was part wolf.
His frame was enormous; broad-shouldered and muscular. His skin was the colour of caramel and his hair and eyes were dark. Stubble coated his square jaw, giving him a rugged, somewhat mysterious look. The white cotton shirt that he wore was unbuttoned halfway down his defined chest, and a black, tribal-looking tattoo was visible on his dark skin. On his lower half he wore tight-fitting jeans, covered mostly by dark brown chaps which drew Kyla’s eyes to his denim-coated crotch. Dried reddish mud caked his hiking boots.
“Jesus,” said Jay, who’d turned to observe. “He’s a tall drink of water, isn’t he?”
“Um,” was all that Kyla could manage.