Read Forbidden Love: A BBW, BWWM Paranormal Romance Online

Authors: Mary T Williams

Tags: #Paranormal, #Werebear, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Werewolves, #Shifter, #Romance, #Erotic Romance Fiction, #Adult, #Fiction, #fantasy, #BBW, #BWWM

Forbidden Love: A BBW, BWWM Paranormal Romance

Forbidden
Love
A mortal enemy, a love like no
other...

The
tale of a forbidden love.

Werewolves
and werebears are mortal enemies. Alex, a wolf shifter, knows this;
but when he sees a werebear wounded and about to be caught by
poachers, he can't just sit back and let it happen.

After a
daring rescue he's left with an injured bear shifter and a new found
responsibility to get them to safety. Shifting into human form, the
bear just so happens to be a beautiful and curvy woman, and one that
Alex is instantly dawn to.

The
question is, with bears hating wolves and wolves feeling the same,
where do they go for safety?

Join
the two as they get to know each other and embrace a forbidden love.
A must read for fans of the paranormal and romance stories.

This
shifter romance book is for adults, 18+ only. Contains scenes of a
sexual nature.

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Copyright
©
2015 to Mary T Williams and ParanormalRomanceClub.com. No part of
this book can be copied or distributed without written permission
from the above copyright holders.

Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

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Chapter 1

Alex
meandered down the path, completely at ease in the forest he’d
grown up in. The trees were familiar, like old friends, whispering
the secrets of the past and of his people as he walked. He cocked his
head, listening for the river, debating whether to make a detour to
sit by the shore. He was under no obligation to hurry back to the
camp, so he turned to the left off the path and strolled leisurely
through the trees, occasionally brushing his hand over the bark of a
tree or through the fronds of a fern.

When he reached the river, he plopped down on a boulder
facing the shining river, smiling to himself as the memory of how
he’d learned to listen to the trees returned. He watched as
salmon swam swiftly past him, moving upriver. A crane swooped down
and snagged one out of the water, the large fish jerking left and
right in the vain hope of freedom. Alex watched the crane land on the
opposite shore and begin its afternoon meal, pulling apart the still
squirming fish between its talons. He sighed and lay back on the
boulder, letting the sun shine down on him, warming him in the cool
mountain air

As a small child, his grandfather’s murmurs had
captivated him with the beautiful stories of the trees. Stories of
his people, of the past, of all the wonders he would never be able to
see. He had explained that one day, when puberty hit and turned Alex
into a man, he would hear the trees too.


Why can’t I hear them now, Papa?”
he’d asked, staring wide-eyed at his grandfather.


You must have patience, young Alex. Only those
who wait patiently are gifted with the ears to hear the trees’
secrets.”


I want to hear them, so I’ll wait,”
he’d replied. “But do I have to like it?”

His grandfather’s deep chuckle answered him. “No,
you don’t have to like it. Don’t worry, my grandson,
you’ll hear the trees, like your father, like your mother, like
everyone in our family.”

And when he’d turned fifteen, he had heard them.
The same day he’d discovered the truth about himself and his
family: they were werewolves.

At first he’d been frightened when he’d
transformed into a four-legged creature covered in black and gray
fur. His view of the world had changed; he had been shorter than he
was as a man, but not by much, and when he ran, he moved like the
mustangs who stampeded through the valleys. He had been able to see
everything so much more clearly than as a man, and his hearing was
sharper too, as the werewolf, and sometimes he changed just to hear
the sounds of the forest more clearly.

He was startled from his thoughts and from his reclined
position by a gunshot, followed by the bellow of a creature in pain.
He waited a moment, focusing on the direction from which he’d
heard the sound. He rose after another bellow echoed through the
woods, moving swiftly in the direction of the noise.

Alex shifted quickly into wolf form, speeding through
the trees, a black and gray blur. He reached a clearing and heard a
loud crashing as if some large creature had fallen and couldn’t
get back up. He stopped behind a copse of trees to take in the scene,
sensitive to strange smells and sounds. Safety first.

A bear lay on the ground, bleeding heavily from its back
leg. Alex lifted his head and sniffed the air and realized this
wasn’t a bear, but a werebear. Grimacing at the smell of his
enemy, he thought about turning and leaving the werebear to its fate.
But an answer eluded him; who had shot it? No one had approached the
creature yet, and because of all its thrashing, he couldn’t
hear anything beyond the clearing.

Indecision plagued him; the creature was obviously in a
great deal of pain, but the werebear clan in this area were the
archenemies of his family, the werewolves. As far as he knew, all
werebears and werewolves were natural enemies, all clans, no matter
where they lived.

*****

Alice’s leg throbbed with pain. She’d nearly
passed out twice once she’d made it to the clearing. After the
poacher had shot her, she’d managed to run another two hundred
yards before collapsing to the ground, the pain too much to continue.
She’d tried to drag herself out of the clearing into the brush,
but she knew the trail of blood would lead them directly to her.
Twice she’d attempted to put weight on the wounded leg, but it
refused to hold even a small amount of her weight so she could limp
away.

So
she’d waited for them to come to her. She’d bellowed
loudly, hoping another werebear might be nearby and come to her aid,
but to no avail. She lay there, debating with herself: remain a
werebear or return to her human form. The poachers knew they’d
shot a bear, so maybe if she turned into a human, they’d be so
confused they’d help her rather than kill her. She knew the
value of a werebear pelt; she’d heard horror stories about
poachers taking a were in human form and torturing them until they
transformed. Only death awaited the were after transformation.

The
snap of a twig and a familiar smell interrupted her thoughts. A
werewolf was nearby.
Just great,
she thought, a grimace of pain crossing her bear face. Two enemies so
close they could probably hear her heart beating madly, and she was
completely helpless. She moved her eyes from side to side, searching
for the werewolf’s hiding place. The poachers would come in
from the south, so she assumed the werewolf would be to her right.
She sniffed the air in that direction again, but only the smell of
her own fear reached her nostrils. She raised her head and listened,
but only the crashing of hunting boots reached her ears.

She
sighed, resigned to her fate. The werewolf wouldn’t help her;
they were natural enemies to the werebear, had been for centuries.
The poachers would get her pelt one way or the other. She thought
about bellowing once more, but the futility of it stopped her. She
rested on the ground and waited for death.

*****

Alex looked around the clearing again. The werebear had
quieted some, and footsteps were closing in. The werebear lay on a
pile of leaves, gingerly trying to rise onto all fours in order to
escape. The clearing was a circle approximately ten feet around and
offered no hiding places for the werebear. If it couldn’t get
up and get into the cover of trees, the humans heading in their
direction would be upon it soon.

The crashing of the poachers (for that’s what the
humans were; shooting a bear, were or otherwise, is illegal) were
getting closer and closer. The werebear was beginning to panic,
panting loudly and scooting along the floor of the forest, leaving a
trail a mile wide for the poachers to follow. Its fear was palpable;
Alex could smell it seeping through its skin and into the clearing.

He sighed. He couldn’t walk away from a helpless
creature, even if he hated what it was. He’d help the thing get
away and leave it to save itself after that.

Before Alex could go to the werebear’s aid,
though, the poachers crashed into the clearing, cheering at the site
of the downed werebear. The one who seemed to be the leader moved
closer to it, gun pointing at its head. His redneck pals also moved
closer, one of whom set his rifle against a tree, unaware what an
injured werebear was capable of. It swiped its huge paw at one’s
leg, who barely evaded. The other two laughed uproariously when he
fell back on his butt.


Back it up, idiot! That thing will take out your
leg with one swipe,” the leader said, his gun pointed at the
werebear’s head.


How much ya’ think can we get for it, Bud?”
one of them asked.


Not sure, since Carl shot its leg. It’s
damaged, so not as much, probably,” Bud replied.

The one who had asked the question kicked Carl, who
still sat on the ground after his close call with the werebear. “You
ass! Why didn’t you let me or Bud take the shot?”

Carl jumped to his feet to defend himself. “Hey!
You’re the one who told me to take the shot! I can’t help
it if that thing smelled your stinky ass.”

They bickered back and forth in the friendly, hateful
way men who are close do. Bud lowered his gun, having determined the
werebear couldn’t escape. He interrupted his friends. “Stop
it. We need to finish this. The truck is over a mile away, and that
thing looks about two hundred pounds.”

Mike, the one who’d fallen, spoke. “Jesus,
it’s gonna take us forever to carry that big ol’ thing
outta here.”


Shoot it, Bud. Get a clean shot, though, so we
can get a good price,” Carl told Bud.

Bud raised his gun again, pointing it at the werebear’s
head. He moved a step closer for a cleaner shot. The werebear had
been snuffling during the exchange, and now fear showed clearly in
its eyes.

Alex jumped into the clearing with a loud growl, drawing
the attention of the poachers away from the bear. Carl, who’d
put his gun in the holster across his back, fumbled to get it out.
Alex took that opening and swiped at his arm, throwing him across the
clearing and into a tree. Bud fired a wild shot, missing by a mile.
Alex turned to him and Mike, who stood next to him. He used his great
paw and swiped at the rifle, which flew out of Bud’s hands and
into the brush. Mike hadn’t even attempted to get to his gun,
sitting across the clearing where he’d set it down in his
excitement when he’d seen the downed werebear.

Alex growled menacingly, staring at the poachers as he
circled to put himself between them and the werebear. Bud stared at
him wonderingly. Alex growled again and lowered his head in
preparation to attack. Bud recognized the signal and put his hands up
defensively.


Ok, boys, we need to go,” he said quietly.
“Back up slowly with your hands up.”

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