Read Bearly Hanging On (Alpha Werebear Shifter Paranormal Romance) (The Jamesburg Shifters Book 6) for Free Online Page B

to the bites differently, and you might get confused easy, or get lost, things like that."
    Ryan flexed his shoulders, fighting a stiffness that crept through his arms. It made no sense - moments ago, he felt fine, but as soon as he shifted, he grew lightheaded, like silkworms had filled his brain with cocoons.
    Of course, that just made him more insatiably paranoid. He imagined all sorts of scenarios that Stephen King wrote about at one point or another, none of which seemed appealing. He just didn't understand - why would anyone behave like this guy was unless there was something in it for them?
    "Ja... mie?" he growled, his voice low in his throat and barely understandable. Only someone used to the way voices changed mid-shift would be receptive. "Where...?"
    "Work, probably," West said. "And listen, she stopped you before you did anything foolish. You owe her," he said. He was getting angry, despite his flat tone. Ryan sensed the tension mounting, and with it, his need to get away grew and grew. "You owe her big."
    "Why?" Ryan managed to grunt. "Just why?"
    Ryan eyed the door. West squared up. "You ain't going out that way, friend," he rumbled. "If you leave it's gonna be out the door beside you, or maybe in a bag. I'll put up with you threatening me, but my mate is less patient."
    Was that what he was doing? Ryan shook his head. He didn't know anymore. He didn't think he was threatening anyone. He thought he was just scared, pinned against a wall, with no way to back up any further. Through his golden fur, the wall texture scratched his hindquarters. He looked back and forth. Then shook his head again.
    "I don't want this to go any further." West's voice had gone from flat to consciously soothing, but maintaining a quiet strength that was undeniable. "Don't test me. You're hurt and hungry and been unconscious for two days. I'm fresh as a damn daisy. Don't," he punctuated his words with a crack of his knuckles, "test me."
    Slowly, Ryan backed away, using the wall as his guide. He bumped against a night stand and navigated around it, back and back and back some more. West stayed exactly where he was, tensely crouched, but not moving an inch, not taking his eyes off the would-be cattle rustler, not for a second.
    "That's it," he coaxed. "There you go. The door is six feet further, on your right hand side." There wasn't a shred of fear in his voice. He was so calm, so cool and collected. Ryan envied him, envied the way he was able to keep his nerves and feelings in check.
    The rage in Ryan's heart was coming in waves. It rose, then subsided. Cool then hot, cool then hot. He felt like he had when he was in that courthouse, staring down that asshole wolf. He felt like he did when he was protecting someone who didn't deserve to be hurt or forgotten.
    Scared.
    Nervous.
    Anxious.
    Run. Run. Get away.
    The words echoed through his mind with every pounding thump of his heart. He wanted to go, needed to more than anything. A vision of the woman danced in front of his eyes. Her lithe body, as she struck him from behind and wrapped her legs around his waist.
    He started to remember the way her teeth felt as they pushed in, and how helpless he'd been.
    Helpless.
    Trapped.
    He didn't understand why, but he lunged forward. Panic-stricken and wild. West batted away a paw with a human hand, and then crouched, transforming. His jeans tore and his button-down plaid shirt tore at the seams. Seconds later, two golden bears faced each other, and one really irritated looking fox woman was standing behind them.
    "I told you!" she shouted, before slamming the door. She grumbled something about having to clean her mate's wounds afterward, but West, after all his patience and calm, made the first post-shift move.
    He feinted with his head, and when Ryan took the bait and tried to strike, lashed out one of his paws, backhanding the smaller bear across the face, leaving bruises but no blood. Ryan stood on his back legs, head six inches from the