Page 8 of Her Beary Spicy Valentine (Welcome to Bear Mountain #2)

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you are definitely my human

less than an hour earlier…

holly

“ W hat are you doing? No... no... no!!!”

I threw my arms over my face, shielding myself from the bear’s attack—a pitiful excuse for self-defense.

The black beast just clamped down on my arm, its sharp teeth tearing through my skin, bear-murdering me with ease.

Except I didn’t die.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a meadow bursting with flowers: red, yellow, and various shades of pink.

Normally, this would have been a nightmare—meadows were my kryptonite, thanks to my seasonal allergies. But instead of sneezing my head off, I climbed to my feet, disoriented and stunned. Also, surprised to find my left leg, which had been broken before the attack, now fully healed.

I glanced around. The meadow overlooked a crystal-blue lake and was encircled by lush, green trees—nothing like the bare, wintry forest I remembered. Even stranger, the scene was filled with bears. Grizzlies, polar bears, and black bears dotted the meadow, their presence oddly serene.

One of them, a black bear, lumbered toward me. Her gentle brown eyes met mine, and a strange sensation came over me—like looking into a mirror. Her lips didn’t move, yet I heard her voice, raw and familiar, inside my head.

Hello. Are you my human?

“Um, I don’t think so,” I answered, my voice shaky. The flower-strewn meadow and lack of sneezing made me ask, “Is this heaven?”

No. Her voice snuffled—almost a laugh. And yes, you are definitely my human.

Her human? I blinked, trying to process the impossibility of what was happening. Not only was the bear talking to me, but her voice sounded like mine—only deeper, rawer, stripped of the soft cadence I’d developed over the years.

The bear suddenly turned, nostrils flaring. What’s that delicious smell?

I sniffed, catching the sweet, decadent aroma. It was intoxicating, like walking into an artisan candy shoppe. “Are you sure this isn’t heaven?” I asked.

No , it’s… The bear shuddered, her body quaking as her voice rasped out, Mates!

“What’s going on with you?” As confused as I was, I step forward with my hands out, my nurse brain trying to figure out how to help her, even though she was a separate species. “Are you okay?”

Mates! Her voice dropped into a guttural growl. She turned back to me, her gaze locking onto mine. This time, her voice roared, filling my entire body with its vibration. MATES!

She lunged at me, and I?—

I jerked awake, gasping.

The cold reality of a jail cell replaced the meadow, and I found myself lying on a random pile of clothes that smelled like maple, hazelnuts, and some dark liqueur I couldn’t name. My coat and scrubs were gone. So was the pain that had consumed me before I passed out.

“What am I doing here?” I sat up, taking in the bare metal bars, the concrete floor, and the two men—wait. What?!

My heart stuttered.

It was the two men who’d fought over me for zero reason. The Viking and the biker whose names I still did not know.

The Viking was knelt in Hero’s Pose, his expression open and eager, while the biker crouched nearby, arms draped over his knees, vibe calm—like he’d just been waiting patiently for me to wake up.

They didn’t look anything alike, but they both wore nothing but briefs, which barely concealed the ridged outlines of two rather impressive erections.

I swallowed hard, my brain short-circuiting as I tried to process being locked in a cell with the two guys who’d fought over me—two guys who looked (and were hung) like they were auditioning for an adult film. And would definitely get the part.

“What happened?” I demanded, trying to scramble to my feet—only to plop right back down again when I realized how strange my body felt—heavy, foggy. A slickness between my thighs made me pause.

Had I… peed myself? Wait. No….

A flush of heat swept through me, leaving confusion and something far worse: red-hot, clawing need. It rose inside me, fierce and insistent, a burning desire I didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

“What… what’s going on?” I gasped, barely able to speak.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably confused,” the Viking said, his expression apologetic and concerned. “You’re safe, though. We just need to explain and help you.”

“Help me?” I choked out. “Help me with what?”

Before he could answer, the bear’s voice reappeared inside my head: Mates! Mates! Mates!

The inner growl locked my gaze on the two men in front of me, dragging my attention down their bare chests to their straining erections. I tried to look away—desperately—but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t obey.

Mates! Mates!

The word snarled in my head, feral and commanding, as my hand moved on its own. Sliding down. Lower. Between my legs.

I wasn’t just touching. I was gathering. Gathering slick, undeniable proof of my body’s sudden eruption of arousal. What am I doing? No… No!

Something primal—something I didn’t understand—had taken over. I was a passenger in my own body, forced to watch as my trembling hand lifted and smeared the arousal I’d gathered…

Across the biker’s face.

“No!” The cry ripped from my throat, raw and broken, as I watched myself do the unthinkable. “Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Shame ripping through my chest and curdling my stomach, I tried to yank my hand away, but the biker caught my wrist, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Mmm, yes, baby, mark me,” he growled, his voice rough, gravelly, and dripping with satisfaction.

He drew my fingers into his mouth, sucking hard. A shockwave rippled through me. My body clenched in places I didn’t know could clench, and the ache inside me deepened.

“What’s… what’s wrong with me?” I whispered, unable to stop watching him.

He released my fingers with a lewd pop. “Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re perfect, baby.”

He pressed my hand to his cheek, nuzzling it as if I hadn’t just smeared my need on him.

“But you’re also in estrus,” he added—as if it was just an afterthought.

“Estrus?” I rasped. My nurse brain struggled to translate the unexpected bit of Latin. “Do you mean… like a dog goes into heat?”

“You’re definitely not a dog,” he said with a lazy grin. “Or a wolf. But yeah.”

“You’re confusing her,” the Viking said sharply, shooting him a glare before turning to me. “Let me explain?—”

A sharp pain knifed through my stomach, and I doubled over with a cry.

This wasn’t period pain. Period pain didn’t come with feverish heat or waves of slickness. I was pulsing, trembling, so wet I could feel it coating my thighs.

Mates!

“Look at her,” the Viking groaned. “She smells so good, but we can’t mate her. Not until we?—”

The voice won.

I tackled him, knocking him flat onto his back. And this time, it was me growling out loud, “Mate!”