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Werebear Bound opens where Werebear Gone Wild ended. In this exciting conclusion of the Tales of the Werebear, Volume 2, Dallas has just watched his Pack Leader attack the largest and strongest of the Shape-Shifters, the Werebear. And lose. This night reveals many secrets that will uncover the true nature of not only Dallas' Pack Leader, but his own. How much loyalty does Dallas owe to a Pack that's corrupt? And can anyone survive the full fury of a Werebear gone wild?
(An Adults only story featuring the ultimate Bear who craves rough sex more than he craves food. But in this situation, what he wants most is vengeance. Contains explicit various supernatural sexual acts with a hero who could be the definition of Hot Leather Daddy Sex.)
Excerpt: Dallas
I was pushing against the gash across his ribs, praying my pressure and his healing factor would stop the flow of blood before he could bleed out. It wasn't easy for a healthy young Werewolf to die this way, and I hoped he wouldn't prove me wrong. Again. I thought he'd never finally Change, but he did. With the help of the Werebear who had just made the wound that might kill him. I swore if Jared died, I'd kill his father for arranging all this and provoking a goddamned Werebear. What the hell was he thinking?
It was all I could do to concentrate on the "be here now" stuff I had learned from one of my Psych Intro courses at the University of Phoenix. The smell of blood was everywhere and it wasn't all Jared's. There was also the distinct scent of fresh meat, which meant most of the Pack members were just as badly injured as Jared-or worse. I suspected that while Geir had torn through most of them, some had turned on each other while inflamed by blood lust. My own Wolf was going crazy and I kept trying to stay in control so I didn't make things worse. I pushed harder and thought I noticed the slightest slowing of the blood flow.
I tried breathing through my mouth, which didn't help very much. I forced myself to stay alert, the way I always saw in movies, people yelled at a victim with a head injury to stay awake. In my case, it was to keep as human as possible and not give in to my Wolf that wanted to go into a feeding frenzy. Well, a feeding and fucking frenzy. With Werewolves, the concept of boundaries was something we sometimes saw in a sports arena.
(An Adults only story featuring the ultimate Bear who craves rough sex more than he craves food. But in this situation, what he wants most is vengeance. Contains explicit various supernatural sexual acts with a hero who could be the definition of Hot Leather Daddy Sex.)
Excerpt: Dallas
I was pushing against the gash across his ribs, praying my pressure and his healing factor would stop the flow of blood before he could bleed out. It wasn't easy for a healthy young Werewolf to die this way, and I hoped he wouldn't prove me wrong. Again. I thought he'd never finally Change, but he did. With the help of the Werebear who had just made the wound that might kill him. I swore if Jared died, I'd kill his father for arranging all this and provoking a goddamned Werebear. What the hell was he thinking?
It was all I could do to concentrate on the "be here now" stuff I had learned from one of my Psych Intro courses at the University of Phoenix. The smell of blood was everywhere and it wasn't all Jared's. There was also the distinct scent of fresh meat, which meant most of the Pack members were just as badly injured as Jared-or worse. I suspected that while Geir had torn through most of them, some had turned on each other while inflamed by blood lust. My own Wolf was going crazy and I kept trying to stay in control so I didn't make things worse. I pushed harder and thought I noticed the slightest slowing of the blood flow.
I tried breathing through my mouth, which didn't help very much. I forced myself to stay alert, the way I always saw in movies, people yelled at a victim with a head injury to stay awake. In my case, it was to keep as human as possible and not give in to my Wolf that wanted to go into a feeding frenzy. Well, a feeding and fucking frenzy. With Werewolves, the concept of boundaries was something we sometimes saw in a sports arena.
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