Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

crept gradually inside,
pushing the door gently shut behind me.
    The place smelled remarkably clean. A few wood carvings
were on a shelf near the wall, just below a painting of huge, snow
capped mountains that looked like they'd been fashioned from Western
Montana's jagged peaks.
    I picked up an owl and turned it over. NICHOLAS T. was
carved on the bird's flat little podium. The signature was more
uneven than the sign I'd seen outside engraved with the same name.
    I've come to the right place. But where the hell
would he keep it?
    I put the owl down and very slowly walked through the
small kitchen. The bears normally slept late on their own turf.
Morning to early afternoon was always the best time for artifact
raids, before they woke to prowl around at night.
    Normally. But hell, was there anything normal about
this?
    A big, faint growl from the room up ahead curled the
air. I froze, feeling hot adrenaline cool into icy fear in my veins.
    I didn't move a muscle for a full five minutes. When
there was nothing else, I moved forward again, unease nipping at my
back.
    As a big girl, I wasn't exactly the most sneaky or
nimble. I relied on smarts, patterns, everything I'd learned about
the Klamath Bear Clan after dear old dad's death.
    My studies drilled in one thing: these skinwalkers
always very regular, ritualistic creatures.
    According to one of their legends, their human and bear
sides communed deeper during sleep. A bear who didn't get a proper
rest wasn't just risking his physical life, but the two spirits
inside him, animal and man.
    I stopped and stared into Nick's bedroom. My jaw
dropped.
    He slept naked, the lower half of his body barely
covered by a big furry blanket. He was stretched out from the waist
up, bare chested and immaculate, his big arms curled up around his
head.
    That's one big, pretty, sleeping baby. I inwardly cursed myself, wondering how anybody's good looks could
make me forget about what he'd done.
    Just now, I needed to forget the rage, though. I had to
get past him, to see if he was still hiding that damned thing in his
room.
    I took another step, bracing one hand on the frame
leading into his bedroom. I peered around the corner and nearly
laughed.
    Holy shit! Right on his dresser, still in its paper
wrapping and all.
    All muscles. No brains. Figures.
    I took a long, slow breath, mentally prepping for the
hardest part. One foot forward at a time, I moved in.
    Sweat beaded on my brow as I came closest to his bed.
Making a single sound would've been a big mistake. And looking at him
too hard or intently just might make me do it.
    No time for any distractions, pleasant or otherwise.
    Come on, Lyla. Focus. Focus!
    Closer, closer, steady and stealthy...
    I was hunched over walking forward now. I passed a
mirror, frowning when I caught my chubby thighs in the periphery.
They were thick slabs even though they worked well.
    Self-consciousness about my figure stirred at the worst
possible time. It made me think of seeing myself naked, and that led
to thoughts about the sleeping Adonis next to me, buff and perfect in
every way.
    Oh, except for that whole I-need-to-kill-you thing.
    Good thing I didn't come here to win Miss Oregon. I
plucked at my bottom lip with my teeth and pressed on.
    Finally, I was at his dresser. I wondered how often
bears needed to re-stock their drawers when they tore their clothes
to shred with every transformation.
    Nick stirred behind me and flopped over on his side,
making me look anxiously over my shoulder.
    Fuck. Don't let him wake up now. We're on the home
stretch...
    Then I remembered it was wrapped up tight in that
crinkly paper. Damn it! There was no hope of moving it without making
one hell of a ruckus.
    Behind the artifact, he had a small box filled with
nicknacks. My eyes searched, looking for anything sharp and heavy to
free my prize, so painfully within reach.
    Scissors. Black handled, beautiful, shiny scissors!
    My heart thumped when I saw my golden ticket to freedom.
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