Alpha’s Prey: A BBW Bear Shifter Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 11)

Miranda

I bundle up before I head out the next morning. The snow flurries stopped, which is good, because I didn’t want to wait to start my research. And I’m glad I made it up here yesterday, because the roads would probably be icy today. I’m just counting on the weather clearing after a few days so I can get home at the end of the week.

Bear stands at the door, turning in circles with excitement over going for a walk.

“You want outside, boy? You ready for our hike?” I egg him on.

He whirls again, paws prancing with readiness, furry tail wagging. I love this dog. Really—he makes my day on a regular basis.

“Okay, let’s go, then.” I pull on my leather gloves. They’re not as warm as big insulated mittens, but I have work to do out there, and I’ll need individual fingers.

I grab my backpack which has everything I require in it: my tablet, battery pack charger, snacks for lunch and a water bottle. I bring my phone for emergencies, although reception is so bad out here, I doubt it would do any good.

As soon as I open the door, wind hits us. I gasp out loud, then laugh at my reaction. “Damn, it’s cold, isn’t it buddy?”

Bear charged out into the snow, rushing around to re-investigate every snow-covered bush he already sniffed and peed on when he went out this morning. He pays particular attention to the side of the cabin where the bear—the real bear—stood last night.

I wrap my scarf tighter around my face, leaving only my eyes uncovered and tucking the edges into my coat to stuff all the weak points where the wind cuts right through me. I look up at the sky. It’s sunny now, but clouds are moving in from the north. I need to plan to be back to the cabin by lunchtime in case another storm comes in.

“We’ll have to keep the research short today, won’t we, boy?”

Bear bounds in front of me like the snow was a gift just for him.

It’s easy to follow the road, even though it’s covered in snow, and I know the trails well enough. Staying cooped up in the cabin all day without having research numbers to crunch doesn’t sound fun. If I can at least get started today, I’ll feel better.

I trudge through the accumulation, which is knee deep in places. It hits above my boots and clings to my jeans in little ice-balls. Damn. I’m going to get too cold very fast.

Bear doesn’t seem to mind. He’s still bounding around, zipping ahead of me to investigate, then tunneling back through the snow.

“You’d make a good sled dog, wouldn’t you, Bear? Wish I had a sled today, that would make this much easier.” Or skis. Or snowshoes. This is insane.

It takes me three times longer than usual to make it to the trailhead. I push on, cutting off onto the trail and following it up on a slow ascent.

I start by setting up my plot—marking off an acre of land as my sample area. Then I begin, starting with the first giant ponderosa tree. I take a core sample to take back to the lab to examine the rings. I’m studying the effects of climate change on trees, and it’s measurable. Soon I’ll have enough data to prove it and finally get some credit as a researcher at the University of New Mexico.

“Observe the female of the species,” I say in my documentary-narrator voice. “Relegated to home life in past centuries, breakthroughs in contraception allow her greater freedom and control of her professional life. She is able to accept duties and responsibilities equal to her male colleagues, at eighty percent of their take home pay. Perceived as the weaker sex, she endures the males’ posturing and attempts at bullying as the price of entry into the workplace.” At least until I secure funding for my project. Then it’s “Sayonara, suckas!” I squeeze my fingers to warm them up, and get to work.

For the next couple of hours, I continue gathering my samples. With the snow, it’s hard to stay on the trail, but I’m fairly confident I have. It doesn’t much matter—returning to the cabin will be easy. All I have to do is follow our footprints in the snow.

I’m about to stop and have a snack when the wind whips up. I didn’t realize the clouds had moved in, blotting out the sun.

Damn. No time for a break. We need to get back to the cabin before the storm hits. I whistle for Bear. Wind blasts my face and cuts through my clothing. It whips around in gusts, making it unclear if it started snowing or if it’s just stirring up the snow that fell yesterday.

I mutter in my David Attenborough impersonation, “Weather patterns are susceptible to great change in the mountains. Warm days—enough to wake a hibernating bear—followed by drops in temperature that precipitate winter storms—” A sharp wind cuts across my throat, and I give up the mini documentary gag. It’s cold as hell. I need to get out of here.

Up ahead, I hear Bear going crazy—barking and growling at something.

“Bear! Here, boy!” I make my voice sharp with command, but Bear doesn’t come running.

What in the hell is out there?

Panic smashes through me. What if it’s the bear from last night?

Oh God, don’t hurt my dog.

As if on cue, the wind streaks through the trees, and this time, I’m sure it’s snowing. Precipitation pelts my face—hard.

I break into a run, following the sound of Bear’s barks. “Bear! Come here! Bear, come!”

Terror races through my veins when he still doesn’t come and his growls and low barks continue. I catch sight of him, only to see him tear off into the distance, like he’s chasing something away.

Shit.

“Bear, no! Bad dog,” I yell in my deepest, maddest voice.

He’s usually an extremely obedient dog. Maybe a little spoiled, but he always comes when called. Now, though, I see snatches of him through the trees as he chases whatever he was growling at.

Damn dog.

It’s not even like this is our first foray into the woods.

“Bear! Bear, come back! Now!”

Finally, he stops. In the distance, I see him turn and look in my direction, then back the way he was going.

“No! Come here!”

He gives one more long look away, then trots back to me, tail tucked, slinking a bit from the growl in my voice.

I scold him when he arrives and turn back to find the path.

Fuck.

It’s snowing so hard our tracks are almost already obscured.

I start running.

“Come on, Bear. We have to move fast,” I pant. The altitude up here kicks my ass on a good day, but add to it freezing air, and my lungs ache just from breathing. I push on, trying to stay one step ahead of my rising panic.

If I get lost out here, I have no way to contact anyone to help. Bear and I will freeze to death before anyone finds us.

My feet push through the snow. I stumble on something under the powder and pitch headlong, face planting in eighteen inches of cold wet flakes. Bear trots back and licks my ear as I scramble to my feet.

No time to waste. We have to keep moving. I run even harder, which, of course, means I trip again.

And again.

Crap, I think I’m just getting clumsy from the cold.

I start running again, only to realize I just reversed directions—I’m following my fresh tracks rather than the old ones.

Holy fuck. Where are the old ones?

I spin around, panic fully gripping my throat. A pathetic whimper comes from my mouth.

“It’s okay, Bear,” I mutter. “We’ll figure it out, won’t we? Do you know which way is home?” I scan the area for anything that looks familiar, but it’s all blanketed in white. I don’t have a clue where we are or even which direction we came from. “Go home, Bear,” I try but he just cocks his ears and wags his snow-crusted tail, not understanding me.

I attempt to take a deep breath, but my lungs reject the cold air. I can do this. I can figure this out. Downhill.

We need to head downhill, right? When we got on the trail we were on an incline, so as long as we’re going downhill, we must be moving in the right direction.

Where is the river? That would help me figure out where we are.

The trouble is, it’s hard to tell what’s downhill and uphill right now. I can hardly see five feet in front of me. The wind swirls at all kinds of crazy angles, pelting my face with snow. I do my best to orient myself to the mountain and pick the most logical direction. I can figure this out. If we just keep moving, eventually we’ll either hit town or the river or something. And we won’t freeze to death unless we stop.

It’s idiotic but that Finding Nemo song Just Keep Swimmin starts playing in my head. Great—just what we needed—a theme song for this trek.

An hour later, I’m exhausted, my jeans are frozen to my legs and I’m starving. I call to Bear, stopping to pull some food out of my backpack. I eat a granola bar and feed him one, too. “We’ll just rest a minute and then we’ll keep going, okay, boy?” I lean my back against a tree. It feels so good to stop. Funny, but it’s not that cold anymore, either.

I let myself slide down to sit. God, yes. I just need to rest for a little while. Rest and warm up here under this tree. Maybe the skies will clear up in a bit and it will be easy to find our way back.

Or the snow will melt…

Bear nudges me. Licks my face.

Then he barks.

“It’s okay, boy,” I mutter.

I’m suddenly so very sleepy.

I hardly notice that Bear has started to bark louder and louder…

Test Subject 849

Female. Female in the woods and I lost her.

Damn dog.

We need the female for our tests. Our very important testing. We need to measure how much pain she can withstand to determine what stressors trigger the change.

No, not the change.

These females don’t change.

Why don’t they change?

Perhaps with the right stressor they can find their inner animal. With enough injections of the serum.

The way mine manifests in moments of extreme danger or fear.

Or partly manifests.

If I’d had enough testing, enough practice, I might have learned to control the wild animal within me. The rage. The terror.

I need to develop the serum to fix my animal. So I can fully transform.

That’s why I have to help these women. Give them more tests. More trials to endure. More pain. Soon they will become the animals they long to be.

Soon we will get the results we’ve been working for.

Caleb

There’s a raging snowstorm outside. My bear should want to hunker down and sleep, but something pulls me out of the cabin. The same bad feeling I had yesterday, but amplified. Maybe I’m just going nuts.

It’s always there. That possibility. I spent too much time in bear form. My human reasoning has been affected. My self-control.

I pull open the door and a gust of wind stings my face with snow. I’m in human form, but I lift my nose to the air, anyway, sniffing. I hear something. It’s faint, but a dog barks. There’s a frightened timbre to the bark that I pick up, even at a distance. It’s a warning bark—an emergency bark.

Fuck.

My skin itches, the urge to shift right upon me. Any sign of danger and my bear wants to rush forward. It’s why I’m hardly fit for human company these days.

Right now my bear’s on edge because I know exactly whose dog is barking, and I’m terrified to find out why. I dive back into the cabin and yank on my boots and a jacket and hat, then head out into the snowstorm.

“Keep barking, dog. I’m coming,” I say out loud. As long as he keeps it up, I should be able to locate them. I’m hoping it’s a them I’m rescuing and not just him.

I’m hoping it’s the storm that threatens them and not something—someone—else.

My long strides turn into a run the more my mind whirls around all the things that might have gone wrong. The heat of the shift is right at the surface. I want to take my bear form so I can cover more ground, get there quicker, but I resist the urge. I won’t be of much use to the lovely scientist in bear form. Not unless she’s under direct attack.

The memory of finding Jen and Gretchen dead comes flooding back, and I nearly lose control.

Please, no.

Don’t let that happen again.

When I get close, the dog charges, running at me, growling viciously. He stops halfway between me and her, sits and just barks. The poor beast isn’t sure whether to protect his mistress from me or lead me to her. His instincts are going haywire right now with the need to survive and to help his owner.

Poor creature. I ignore him, showing my dominance. He whines as I pass, probably catching my scent and realizing I’m not human. At least not completely.

I find the young scientist slumped against a tree. Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t seem terribly aware. She’s probably in some stage of hypothermia.

Christ.

What the hell happened to her out here? I sniff but don’t detect any scent but hers and the dog’s.

As soon as she recovers from this mess, I’m going to turn her over my knee for even being out on a day like this.

Okay… that was a weird thought.

I would never do anything like that.

With any female.

…who wasn’t my mate.

Lord, I’ve been living up here alone too long. I shouldn’t be so affected by the first female who comes around. Especially when she’s human.

I reach down and pluck the scientist from the ground, tugging her to her feet first, then bending and slinging her over my shoulder.

She mumbles something incoherent, but I ignore it. The danger isn’t over and I still have to get her back to my cabin and warmed up. I would run, but I’m afraid it would jostle her too much. I don’t want to snap the fragile human’s neck. I settle for long, hurried strides.

The dog runs along beside me, trying to jump up and lick his master’s face.

We reach my cabin and even though I don’t keep the gas heaters turned up, warmth seems to blast us.

The human whimpers as I tip her to her feet. It occurs to me I ought to say something to her, something reassuring, but those kind of words are long forgotten. I hardly speak to anyone these days, and when I do, it’s not pleasantries. I don’t do polite. Or chit chat. Definitely not friendly.

Soothing is so far out of my wheelhouse it’s in the next kingdom.

I pull off her backpack and dump it behind the door. “Come here,” I grunt, taking her elbow and propelling her to my bathroom. She stands there, disoriented and docile as I fill the tub with tepid water.

I shuck her soaked leather gloves from her hands, then unzip her jacket and tug it off. Her eyes widen slightly, but she seems incapable of speech just yet.

“Gotta get your body temperature up,” I growl, peeling her sweater off next, then the sexy pink tank top I saw her in last night.

Her bra is also pink, and as much as I try not to look at her tits, I’m fucking dazzled by them when they tumble out. They’re big and bouncy. Creamy white with a smattering of copper freckles across the tops and between them.

The nipples—fuck, the nipples are perfection. A rosy-peach and harder than glass.

She has the wherewithal to cover her breasts—at least she tries, but her fingers aren’t working yet, so she holds them loosely in front of her face, like her fingers are broken, and uses her forearms to cover the nips.

After taking off her boots, I unbutton her jeans. She just stands there and lets me. I don’t know why the fuck she didn’t have snow pants on if she was going out in this blizzard.

I don’t know why the fuck she went out in this blizzard at all, but I intend to find out.

Later.

When she can speak.

Her jeans are frozen to her legs. I wince peeling them off her chafed red skin. I hope to fates she didn’t get frostbite.

“W-who are you?” she manages to say as I steady her hips and pull off her socks. Thank fuck they’re wool. Toes still look intact.

“I’m the guy who saved you from freezing to death.” It’s a shitty answer, but grouchy is my M.O.

When I try to pull down her panties—cotton, also pale pink—she catches them, or at least tries to.

“Fine,” I snap. “Leave them on.” I lift my chin toward the tub. “You’re getting in there.”

I steady her elbow and direct her into the bath. She yelps in pain when her foot comes in contact with the warm water. I was careful not to make it too warm, but I’m sure it still burns like hell.

“I know. It’s gonna hurt when the blood comes back into the area. Take it slow.” There. I can be somewhat civil.

She grits her teeth and leans on me to step her other foot in, sucking her breath in across her teeth.

“Now sit down in it. I have to deal with your dog.”

Her eyes fly wide. “Bear? Where’s Bear?” She tries to peer around me, which is cute, because I’m way too big to see past.

Her dog’s right behind me—totally underfoot. He gives a soft whine when he hears his name.

“Is he okay?”

My bear likes that she’s more worried about her dog than herself, but I’m not surprised. I already got the impression they’re tight. And that she’s an animal lover.

“He saved your fucking life,” I tell her.

“That’s not what I asked.” Her teeth chatter as she lowers herself into the tub, crying out when her butt hits the water.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to get your ass thawed out first.”

“Charming,” she mutters, gasping and wincing as she sinks in deeper.

As soon as I’m sure she’s not going to drown or anything, I grab a towel and throw it over her dog. It doesn’t do much good, because his thick fur is matted with ice and snow, which isn’t yet melted.

Fuck.

Somewhere, I think I have a hairdryer. It was Jen’s, but I kept it because it comes in handy on occasion. Not for hair, but for fix-it projects, like drying glue or wet plaster. I find it under the sink and plug it in.

“Dog,” I say sternly. The dog cowers.

“Why is my dog scared of you?”

I glance her way. She still appears shell-shocked. Barely alive. Confused. It irritates the fuck out of me because it’s clear how close she came to dying. If I hadn’t heard her damn dog…

I glance down at the reason she’s still breathing. He tucks his tail and drops his head submissively. “Because he recognizes me as alpha,” I say. And as a giant fucking black bear. Poor dog must be scared as hell, knowing on some level what I am.

I turn on the hairdryer, which discourages further questions. The dog stands there and takes it, hunching against the noise and blast of hot air. I keep it up until the snow has melted off him and his wet fur stinks up the bathroom.

It takes all my effort to avoid looking over at the naked scientist in my tub. In fact, I’m not even sure why I stayed in the same room with her. My concentration is being sorely tested. I should not be ogling her full breasts when her well-being still hangs on the line. Especially because it brings my ever-present bear even closer to the surface. Shit—my eyes are probably glowing yellow right now.

And then I do look over, because, yeah—beautiful breasts—and I realize she’s not recovering as quickly as I’d expected.

Of course, I know dick about human females, but I didn’t expect her teeth to still be chattering, or her body to be shaking so much.

Fuck.

My bear snarls as if Death is some real foe it can defend her against. I shove him down—I can’t fucking think if I’m half-crazed with animal thoughts, and I need to think. I have to figure out how to save this female.

I abandon the dog—his fur is close to dry now anyway—and march over to the tub.

“Out,” I order.

She doesn’t move. Not even her eyes. It’s like she’s in shock.

Damn.

I grasp behind both her elbows and lift her to stand. “Out you come,” I attempt to order again. I need her help or I’ll have to resort to tossing her over my shoulder again.

She just stands there, shuddering.

Dammit. I grab a towel and wrap it around her shoulders, then scoop under her knees and swoop her up into a baby carry. “Let’s go, princess. Gotta get you warm.”

“I’m c-c-c-cold,” she chatters.

“I noticed,” I say drily, carrying her out to the living room, dog at my heels. I lay her down on the couch and finish toweling her off, patting the skin that’s bright red from the elements gently. Her damp dog sits beside the couch, watching everything. Still alert in case she needs help.

And she does. This human needs medical attention. A hospital, or some other kind of emergency help. I don’t fucking know, because shifters heal on their own without a doctor’s interference.

A sleeping bag!

That’s what I need.

I remember hearing it’s one way to raise a person’s body heat. You zip them up in a sleeping back with another body. Uh, preferably naked.

Shit. I am so screwed.

My cock gets hard just thinking about lying skin to skin with the lovely scientist. My bear twists just under my skin, antsy. Always antsy. Always ready to come screaming out and tear his claws and teeth into something.

Especially for a threatened female.

She’s not even a bear, I want to tell him. Calm the fuck down.

Maybe he’s lost reason, too. We’ve both gone mad. Me with too much time in animal form. My animal with too much… fuck if I know. Misery? Grief?

I cover the freezing female with a blanket, cursing myself for not having something softer. After I build up a roaring fire in the fireplace, I dig a sleeping bag out of the closet and drop it on the throw rug in front of the hearth. My bear’s still flickering at the surface, jumbling my thoughts with deadly aggression. There’s a reason people fear the mama-bear. The instinct to protect runs fierce in our species.

No one to kill here, fucker. And you’ll hurt the girl if you don’t back the hell down.

The human still shivers on my couch, teeth chattering. Delicate fucking flower. “Come here,” I say gruffly, grasping her wrists and pulling her to stand. “We have to get your body temperature up. Get in that sleeping bag there.” I point to it and lead her over.

She moves like an awkward wooden doll, her steps stiff and uncoordinated. She manages to fit herself into the sleeping bag.

“Take off the panties.”

Damn. That doesn’t sound good.

She doesn’t move.

“They’re wet and cold. Take the damn things off now,” I bark, putting alpha command into my voice. The dog hears it and tucks his tail even more, dropping his head.

I actually don’t expect her to obey me. She’s not a shifter so she doesn’t respond to alpha command for one thing. For another, she doesn’t know me at all. I’m a complete stranger ordering her to take off her panties. It could definitely be misconstrued.

After a couple beats, she wriggles around in the sleeping bag, but the movements seem to exhaust her and she falls still, just shivering.

Shit. I unzip the side of the sleeping bag and grab the sides of her panties. Her eyes fly wide when I pull them down.

I nearly shift right there. And it’s not to protect her.

Apparently my bear thinks this curvy human is the next best thing to a sow because my teeth sharpen in my mouth like he wants to give her a mating bite.

Crazy, crazy bear. I need to get this under control or I could inadvertently hurt this fragile human. I close my eyes and turn my face away in case my irises turned yellow. I fight back a growl from my bear. Fates, having a naked female within kissing distance does all kinds of things to the beast within.

Go back to sleep, bear.

Touching her, lying next to her naked body is the last thing I should do considering how little control I have over my animal. But it has to be done. Her life is still in danger.

I strip off all but my boxers, wedge myself in with her, and zip us in together. Her scent fills my nostrils—sun-warmed strawberries. Vanilla ice cream. Heat explodes down my limbs. I struggle to calm the bear, taking slow, measured breaths, focusing on the chill of her flesh against my burning skin.

I turn her to face away from me and mold myself to her back. She stiffens but doesn’t protest. I pray my intent is pretty clear—this isn’t a romantic moment, it’s a life-saving event.

At least I hope to hell it saves her life.

Her ample ass fills my lap. Her bare lush ass. Nothing between it and my cock but a thin pair of boxers.

I manage to angle my hips away as my cock lengthens. Prickles of heat run up my spine as the pain of the change comes right on me.

Fates, at best I’m going to scare the female to death if she feels my manhood moving against her ass. Especially because bear cock… it’s huge. I’m not bragging, just stating fact. At worst, we could have a bear mauling situation.

No, I wouldn’t hurt her. My bear would never hurt a woman.

Keep telling yourself that, a voice in the back of my head whispers. You still don’t know for sure.

It’s hotter than hell in the sleeping bag. I’m sweating like a demon, but I’m relieved to feel her flesh warm against mine. Her teeth stop chattering. The shivering ceases.

The poor female, probably exhausted from her ordeal, slips into a gentle slumber.

I whistle softly to her dog, who’s pacing around us, keeping an eye on me, and I pat the spot on the other side of me. The loyal canine probably needs my body heat to warm up, too. He drops to his belly beside me, understanding. I scoot him against the sleeping bag, offering my side for him to mold into.

Now if I can just figure out how to stuff my bear back down and fall asleep with this king-sized boner.