His Biker Bear

By Angelique Voisen

Take without asking. Kill to survive. That’s been my mantra for years. A lone bear like me isn’t interested in being rooted down, until fate threw a dirty-talking Omega with an attitude under my wheels.

Jake Winters wants a protector. I’m looking for one last wild ride before heading back on the road. Mating Jake and marrying our wolves hadn’t been on the agenda. Neither was falling in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Mar 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781772337594

Angelique Voisen

Angelique Voisen writes LGBTQ erotic romances and likes experimenting with different sub-genres. Her stories are often set in exotic settings and may include blades, fangs, kinky magic systems, and happily-ever-afters. Visit Angelique at www.angelvoisen.blogspot.com

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Published by Evernight Publishing ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Angelique Voisen

ISBN: 978-1-77233-759-4

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Kerry Genova

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To S, for always letting me lean on you. To my readers, I hope you enjoy Blake and Jake’s story.

HIS BIKER BEAR

Angelique Voisen

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

Blake

Nothing else a road warrior needed but the wind in his face, the steady thrum of the engine between his legs, and the open road ahead of him. Above me, the jet-black night sky seemed to go on forever, occasionally punctured by a measly scattering of stars and the full moon.

My destination? Anywhere and nowhere. I left my mountain home and pack the moment I turned eighteen and never looked back. My bike engine let out an exhausted whine, killing my mood.

Fuck.

I couldn’t remember the last time I sent the black and silver metal beast to repair, but it felt like a long time. By the sound of it, my ride wouldn’t last long. Maybe make the last couple of miles in one piece, but not any longer. I checked my phone hours ago, before sunrise, and knew this particular stretch of road led to one location. Moonvalley Oasis, a little town in the middle of nowhere. Shifter territory, but one, rumor had it, didn’t take well to outsiders.

I rode on, hoping what I heard had been a fluke. No such luck. Grunting my displeasure, I decided to make one quick stop at Moonvalley Oasis. Stay until the local car repair joint finished fixing my wheels up, and then get the hell out. Simple enough plan. The terrain changed on either side of me from flat grassland, occasionally disrupted by farmhouses and roadside motels, to woodland ringed by oaks and pines.

Aren’t you fucking quaint.

My bear told me these trees and the land were old. Any animal group that claimed an area usually knew the lay of their land in the back of their heads. The local werewolf pack around these parts would have the upper hand if things went south fast. I didn’t like it. The feeling of being lured into a trap, of having only one way in and out, but I had no choice. Bears aren’t to be underestimated, but we’re not built to run. A dozen wolves could easily take us down without suffering many casualties.

Hell. Why am I thinking that far? Better to make things less complicated. I’d be a good tourist. Some out-of-towner with cash to spare, and I’ll leave the moment business was done. Convinced, I continued my pace, not seeing the flash of fur until it was too late. The beast streaked out of the trees to my right without warning, a white blur that nearly collided with my front wheels, if not for my instincts. I swerved at the last second, cursing under my breath. Tires squealed on gravel. I jammed my foot down, needing a couple of moments to keep my bike balanced. Fuck it. I wasn’t about to let some randy, moon-high werewolf—because the figure was too big to be a normal-sized wolf—wreck my beloved ride. I managed to hit the brakes in time. The hog skidded to the side of the road, smoke coming out the front.

Hey, fucker, I yelled.

The wolf turned, yellow gaze trained on me with surprise. The first thing that struck me about the shifter was his coat. Under the moonlight, I glimpsed his pure snow-white fur. It wasn’t tinged with gray or other colors, just white. The color made the other details I missed stand out, like the darker spots on his left flank and the spots of crimson on his muzzle. The telltale smell of copper mixed with hurt woke my bear and made it mad for some unexplainable reason.

Dismounting, God knew why, I walked up the wolf. My anger at nearly running him over became a distant thing. He raised his tail and flattened his ears when I closed the distance between us, but he didn’t run. Curious indeed.

Hey boy, I said softly, wondering what the hell I was doing. What or who are you running away from?

He thumped his tail and then peered at the cluster of trees behind me. No movement. I didn’t sense any other shifter either. The wind rustled branches and leaves. The road remained quiet, as most seldom-traveled paths do in the dead of the night.

We’re alone here, and I think you owe me a fucking explanation for impulsively running out. I could have run you over. I held out a hand.

He took those last steps to me, pressed a nose to sniff at my palm then let me pet him. Kneeling, remaining at the same eye level, I took another whiff of him. Something about the stranger smelled damnably good. He possessed an alluring scent, tangy and sharp at once. Wolves and bears don’t generally mix. Hell, we usually stick to our animal groups, but something about the wolf called to me.

I let my bear shift through his scent, letting the animal judge. Spirited wolf, but he didn’t smell of power. When he offered me his tender throat, acknowledging the strength of my dominant bear, I understood.

He was a male Omega, capable of carrying a naturally born pup to full term, which was pretty rare in both large and small packs. Shifter females could be bred, but the pregnancy took a huge toll on their bodies. That was why most animal groups preferred making new members through the bite. Viable candidates had a fifty-fifty chance of making the transition, but it was a lot easier than breeding.

Where’s your partner, your mate? I asked.

There was no fucking way the male Omega didn’t have a protector because they were valued commodities. My blood heated at the thought some careless shifter would