ALPHA’S PREY

9



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.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“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.


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