ALPHA’S PREY

8



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.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

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.”


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