Between a Bear and a Hard Place (Alpha Werebear Romance) by Lynn Red

no telling what we’re dealing with. No telling whether they’ll recognize us, or... hell, whether they even know they were part of a clan. These were cubs taken all those years ago, or must have been.”
    “Why do you say that?” King shrugged under a low-hanging branch.
    “No reason,” Rogue answered. “Hope, I guess. Hope that maybe we aren’t all alone. That maybe some of the clan escaped the experiments that did... whatever they did.”
    King stuck his hand out, catching Rogue’s shirt, and wordlessly silencing him. Both men crouched, low to the ground and scanned the area. “Did we just get snuck up on?” Rogue hissed. “Or did we accidentally sneak up on someone?”
    “Shh,” the taller bear hushed the smaller one. “Listen.”
    So close to the ground, Rogue could feel something, rather than hear it. “The ground’s vibrating,” he said. “Feels like something is moving underneath us.”
    “Or above,” King said. He looked up into the sky, but the canopy of course blocked out any view of the moon.
    “No question they have to be looking for the runaways,” Rogue said, eyes shifting side to side. “But why is the ground shaking?”
    King shook his head, and when he looked back at Rogue, his eyes were beginning to glow, and the hair on his arms, and neck was growing coarse and long.
    “Not a bad idea,” Rogue said, crouching down and letting his animal ferocity overwhelm his human form. As his muscles stretched and thickened, and his fur grew coarse, and heavy, a smile – a snarl – curled his lips around long, dagger-like teeth. It felt good to do this, it always had. The sense of raw power, of unbelievable might that coursed through him was impossible to describe, but whenever he ended up in a fight, the results were always the same.
    His senses came to life, and a zen-like state of utter calm descended on Rogue’s soul. Still the ground shook, but instead of worrying about it, he simply prepared. Whatever it was that emerged, or descended, he was ready.
    He shot a look in King’s direction to find the other bear just as taut and ready. King’s golden fur, streaked with brown, bristled on the back of his head, in a ridge running down the bigger bear’s spine. He turned his head, growling under his breath as he spread his feet.
    All at once, the humming vibration simply stopped.
    The two exchanged glances once again, Rogue wrinkling his huge forehead in thought. King jerked his head backwards, and slunk into the underbrush with Rogue by his side.
    A smooth whirring shortly replaced the rumble. Rogue’s eyes, and King’s too, grew wide as they watched the place they’d just been standing retract like the cover on a hot tub being pulled back into the surrounding deck. Leaves clattered down the hole, sticks tumbled with weak thuds.
    “They’re here?” the voice came in a stacky rasp, like a person speaking through a gasmask. “Don’t see them.”
    Eight, black-clad figures emerged, all armed with some sort of assault rifle. All of the men – Rogue assumed they must be men – were identical in height, weight, build, and clothing. Pure black from head to toe, from their matte-finished combat boots to the hoods that covered their entire faces, no human feature was visible.
    “Form up,” another one of the faceless soldiers said, whipping his hand above his head. “Sensors found them. Although the girl is missing. She doesn’t matter.”
    The hard, cold, hiss of the voice was vaguely haunting. Rogue’s ears prickled, his muscles ached for action. More than anything, he wanted to charge them and spray the forest floor with... well, with whatever would come out of these things after a good claw swipe. He looked at King, who was silently observing the strange sight in front of him.
    “Four,” one of them said. “Makes no sense. The sensors aren’t ever wrong.”
    All their voices are exactly the same. Or, only one of them is speaking. That can’t be though, because different ones