Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance (11 page)

“
There! Holy shit. There's something in here about
your clan after all.”

Nick furrowed his brow. He looked at Tuts.

“
Can she borrow this?”

“
As long as it never leaves this lodge.”
Tuts watched my hands shaking.

I gently closed the book and held it tight to my chest.
Against all the odds, we'd truly come to the right place.

Maybe
there was more to that whole
destiny
stone thing than just a name.

“
I'll return it safely just as soon as I can,”
I told the old Indian. “Ready for a history lesson, Nick?”

My lover smiled. “Didn't have much of that in
school, and can't say I enjoyed it. But I'm willing to make an
exception with the right instructor. Helps that it's a damned good
cause too.”

“
Read it together,” Tuts said. “You,
young lady, should take the lead. A man with no past is usually
shocked at what he finds. For your friend here, this will be like
finding his own father.”

Nick's face darkened. Surely, Tuts couldn't have known
about his personal life. Except that really hit home.

I read it on his face, his posture, his expression. I
stood, hoping I'd be able to lug the book upstairs without breaking
my back.

“
This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Nick.
Let's find out what they've been keeping from you.”

“
Yeah,” he said, grabbing the artifact.
“Thanks for your hospitality, Tuts.”

The old Indian nodded. He stood near the table as we
made our way to the door. I felt his eyes on my back until we closed
the door, mysterious and heavy, the same as the monstrous volume in
my hands.

“
Gods!” Nick paced to the window, peeled
back the curtains, and stared out at into the encroaching darkness.

I didn't blame him one bit.

The big old book held an entire chapter about the
Klamath Bear Clan, an offshoot of an older northern shifter branch
who'd migrated down from British Columbia.

“
It's amazing, isn't it?” I whispered.

“
What?” He turned, showing me the fires
blazing in his narrowed eyes. “The fact that our whole damn
history has been buried and forged? Those assholes told us we'd been
near Klamath forever.”

“
You couldn't have known...nobody could...”

“
And here I thought we were supposed to be
concerned about humans coming in and taking our artifacts. The real
thieves were right under our fucking noses.”

Sadness spread through my heart. No, he was right to
take a jab at humankind again, and indirectly at me for stealing
their treasures.

The Klamath Elders had already taken so much, only to
have nosy, desperate humans like myself hitting them from the other
side.

I tried to push down the lump in my throat. Tried, and
failed.

“
Why are you crying, Lyla?” He came over,
pulling me into his arms.

“
I regret the way we met. I regret everything that
came before too! I'm just like those assholes in the records here:
settlers, prospectors, government goons. Just one more human female
using shifters to her own ends.”

“
The pain goes both ways. You read it yourself.”
He squeezed my shoulders, burying my face against his shield-like
chest. “Your father's just one example. We killed plenty, and
not always in self-defense.”

“
Yes, but it was your land, your property that's
been taken. No shifter armies ever occupied whole kingdoms or
ransacked human cities.”

“
Who can say?” He shrugged. “I'm sure
the history goes back a lot further than what's in this book. We're
lucky to have anything at all. All I know is, in Klamath the betrayal
came from our own fucking kind, and continues to this day.”

I lifted my head, nodding. He was right about that. The
history book proved it.

The first pack of criminals had been Branson's own
father, Theodore. It was during a difficult time for the Klamath
Clan, just after the century flipped over.

King Alexander couldn't feed his people. Grazing off the
land wasn't easy anymore with fierce droughts and more humans moving
in by the year. Their territory was shrinking, and the Klamath bears
would've seen their numbers halved if it wasn't for trade deals with
the local humans.

Then the humans saw their chance, and so did Theodore.

Overnight, the trade deals ended. Human settlers
demanded more land, more resources, more access to clan property. Old
Theo was willing to give it to them.

It was a familiar chain of events, and surprisingly
human too. I'd always been amazed at how quickly an empty belly and
an enterprising traitor could create a revolution.

Theodore and his partners drove the royal family away,
promising a new beginning. Theodore created the Elder Council,
unlocking some brutal and reckless impulses in the group to cement
his power.

The Klamath bears fanned out across the West, robbing
banks and attacking small outpost towns until they caved, resuming
the old trading deals at a favorable rate for the clan.

And so the Elders consolidated their power. It was the
new democratic way forward, sick from birth with all the corruption
and backstabbing politics any human democracy brings.

“
You must be glad you've left that world behind.”

Nick stared at me intently. I wanted to swallow my
words.

How stupid. That look says he's anything but happy
about exile from his country, his people. Love it or leave it, right?

“
It's good to take a break,” he said slowly.
“Not like I have much choice. If I ever show my face among the
Klamath bears again, they'll kill me.”

“
Don't be so sure about that.”

He gave me an odd look. My heartbeat picked up.

Shit.
There was
one little thing I left out as I read through the book and summarized
all the relevant parts.

“
Tell me, Lyla. There's something else in that
book, isn't there?”

Busted.

“
I didn't want to tell you like this.” I
moistened my lips, feeling his arm tightening around my shoulders.
“It's Klamath's royal bloodline...the family name was Tundrae,
and I think you know what that means.”

“
Tundrae like Tunder? What, it's some derivative
name? You mean...”

He trailed off. Nick's grip on me changed to a harsher
kind of comforting, growing in intensity, except now it wasn't just
me he was trying to pacify.

“
Congratulations, King.” I gave him a big,
silly smile, hoping it wouldn't be too inappropriate for the strange
situation getting weirder by the day.

“
Gods!” He stood up, walking to the window
again before coming back to me. “What about them, then? My
father? My grandfather? Does that book say anything?”

I dove for the huge open tome on the small desk. In his
mad rush to devour everything, he might end up tearing its fragile
pages or worse.

“
I told you everything. All of it. The chronicle
stops in 1916. Didn't record anything about your family's fate.
Obviously, someone returned to the Clan at some point.”

“
At some point. I was born there. Makes me wonder
if it really was an auto accident that killed my father after all.”

Nick eyed me quietly. He'd revealed the family secret we
shared, and somehow that brought us closer. Sympathy, love,
everything gushed beneath the surface, filling the invisible space
between us with a special kind of static.

“
Accidents can be planned,” I muttered,
imagining all kinds of horrible possibilities.

Nick took several steps to an open space on the wall. He
leaned there, collecting his wits, a terrible storm of rage and
nausea undoubtedly passing through his body.

“
You should rest, Nick. It's been a rough couple
of days. We've got all the time in the world to figure out a new
life, to forget all this shit...”

“
No.” He spun to face me, muscles engaged,
flexing like he was bowing up to fight. “You've shown me the
truth, Lyla. It's crazy, everything that's happened with you and I.
But I can't just walk away from this.”

Of course you can't. You're a man. Even if you're
really more than that, you think and act like one.

“
Nick, think about this. Please! Not to be Captain
Obvious, but we're dealing with some very dangerous people here. If
you're really going to do...whatever it is you're going to do, then I
can't stop you.”

He relaxed. Slight satisfaction brushed his face, making
it look warmer and more wholesome again.

“
I'm glad you acknowledge that. Listen, Lyla,
you've set this whole thing into motion by accident. I want your
help, beautiful.”

Holy shit!
I
didn't even know where to begin. Except that I wasn't even going to
think about declining this plea.

“
You've got it. Morally.”

“
No, more than that.” He embraced me, harder
this time, pulling my softness to his hard body.

He needed me there, tight against him, reminding him of
everything we'd suffered. So did I.

“
There's got to be other resources. More books,
records, bears...something else that old Indian knows. I need you to
help me find it. I have a feeling the answer's right in front of us.”

Slowly, he guided me to face the table with him. The
destiny stone sat there half unwrapped, its surface glowing like a
tranquil green sea.

“
Find out everything you can about this sphere.
You've got a brain like I don't. I can't sit down and sift through
all this shit like you. Come on, beautiful. I need you.”

His words melted my heart. I leaned in, kissed him,
tugging hard at the muscles along his back.

“
It's a deal.” I smiled. “Just as long
as you keep those rough, hot kisses coming.”

Tuts was nowhere to be found the next day. His
granddaughter Doe said he was out hunting.

“
Did he tell you about the talk with my boyfriend
and I yesterday?” I balked a little at the B-word.

Nothing else fits,
I thought.
Hell, we've been fucking constantly when we're
not chained together at the hip. Isn't that what boyfriends do?

“
Yes. My grandfather talks a lot. His favorite
thing in the world.”

She didn't nod, didn't smile, didn't reveal anything.

“
You must know about all this stuff. I mean, the
legends, the skinwalkers, all that crazy jazz. Look, I'm trying to
finish more research. Tuts gave us a very valuable resource, but I
need more.”

“
County library,” Doe said. “Ask for
Hammond. He's the old chief librarian in charge of the antiquities
downstairs. My grandfather donated his private collection a few years
ago. Said it would be good for posterity.”

“
Thanks,” I said.

If anything positive was going to happen, I had to move
fast. Nick took my advice and rested while I went out.

My chance to give him support in more than mere words
had arrived. If the library trip was a bust, I didn't know where I'd
turn. And if I didn't turn up something useful, then he was all too
likely to go back to the Klamath bears and do something stupid, no
matter how much I begged him not to.

One musty trip to the library later and a short chat
with Hammond brought me into a little room. I had a pile of old books
and folders at my side, all of them donated by our old friend at the
lodge.

Hours of digging later, I fished a portable towelette
from my purse and wiped my hands. Ugh. Dust like that would be
sucking moisture out of my hands for weeks to come.

“
Come on!” I whispered to myself. “Could
really use a little of that bear magic old Tuts was talking about...”

Halfway through another folder of old sketches, I found
it. The hard charcoal lines didn't match Tuts' own steady style from
the wildlife prints I'd seen.

It was a black and white drawing of a huge grizzly
standing on two legs, its claws stretched, roaring at a small crowd
gathered around it. A short man next to the screaming bear held a
very familiar looking sphere.

The destiny stone had vibrant rays shooting out of it
like a second sun.

I flipped it over. The caption was written in a faded,
crabbed script, like something engraved on paper with a quill tip
pen. I managed to make it out, straining my eyes over each line.

Coronation Day for a King.

When a rightful ruler takes his proud jewels in his
rightful form, his people rejoice. The sphere of destiny glows like a
blood red moon, proving his claim to legitimacy.

The skinwalker has a natural edge over all men who
wear the crown. While men depend on Cardinals and courts of
aristocrats to give them their crowns, it seems God himself approves
the Bear King, a sign from the heavens even this wary observer cannot
ignore.