Shadow of the Werebear King

---POV Damon--- {Twenty Years Ago} I stared up at the family that’s protected me all my life while they talked amongst themselves like I couldn’t hear them. “So now that we have confirmed he’s a werebear…what does that mean?” Dad sighed heavily. Mom rested her hand on his shoulder, and I furrowed my brow. “Are…are you a bad thing?” I asked my new spirit. I may be eight, but I’m not oblivious. “No! I’m your spirit and you and I will be just as powerful as your father if not more so. I mean we are a Kodiak bear, just like him! He’s definitely proud of us.” My bear hummed with pure confidence. Proud of me? Why doesn’t it feel like he’s proud of me? “Oh, thank the goddess. Dad!” My mom called and raced towards the door. I rubbed my eyes, knowing I was starting to get tired, but I can’t let them take me away yet. I need to know what is going on. One minute I was excited to finally shift into my spirit and the next…? The next, I’m here with all three of my fathers looking at me with concern and my mom…on the verge of tears. “Ooooo. You’re in trouble now.” Ravi hummed and I glared at her. Just because her and Maicoh are older than me, it doesn’t mean they can walk all over me. “Ravi, don’t instigate.” Aunt Lena huffed, and I grinned as she started to pout. Ha! She deserved it, and it was nice to get a small win today. “You’re not in trouble. I’m sure your grandfather is just as happy as everyone else. It’s amazing you shifted into a bear and the same one as Uncle Edon. You are going to be a cool Alpha kid.” Maicoh reassured me with a ruffle of my hair. I winced, and he laughed lightly, before I was pulled off the couch I hadn’t moved from since I shifted in the backyard a few hours ago. I gasped, concerned they were going to take me away but that was far from the truth. Gramps was laughing at me with such a big smile on his face. “Maicoh is right! There is nothing to worry about. You, my amazing grandson, will become the prince of the werebear kingdom as your birthright.” The smile on his face didn’t falter as my face started to feel pale. “Wow. A Kodiak bear…. There is no way the elders won’t approve.” “And what if they don’t approve, dad?! I know I didn’t want to be involved in the crown, but I definitely don’t want my son to be either. I…I knew he’d be a werebear, but…. Oh goddess, I really didn’t think this one through!” My mom was mumbling, and dad came over to give her a hug, so she’d stop shaking. She does that a lot, but I never thought I’d be the cause of it. I knew it. I messed up. This isn’t a good thing! “I don’t want to be a prince!” I huffed, finally making myself known in the conversation going way over my head. If there was one thing I knew, it would be that my mother was scared. That means I shouldn’t do it, right? “Why not, bud? You won’t have any responsibility yet. It will be a breeze.” Dad added, holding onto mother a little tighter. I shook my head and folded my arms. “No. I want to stay here with everyone.” I grumbled. “Why do I have to leave?! Dad doesn’t have to leave!” I shouted, beyond angry at this point. “But I’m one of the Alphas here, buddy. I can’t take what belongs to you.” He added with a smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “I said I didn’t want it!” I shouted again. “I’m supposed to be the next Alpha! If you can’t go, then neither can I! I want to stay in my pack!” “Awwhh…the little alpha is so cute!” Ravi squealed. I tried to roll my eyes and that only made the noises worse. “Damon, you aren’t going anywhere for now.” Alpha Conri noted. “We won’t let you go over there until you are ready. Either way, you are a Radavier as much as you are an Oden.” I stared at him, and my grip tightened on Gramps’ shirt. “Why can’t Johnny go? He’s a Radavier too!” Gramps shook his head and sighed. “Kind of, but he’s not a werebear kid. That…would be a shock to everyone.” Dad chuckled and looked over to his brother. “Well, Conri, I guess it’s your lucky day. Johnathan will be alpha now.” I froze in Gramps’ arms as those words sunk in. Not only am I making my mother cry, but I’m also losing my birthright?! Ripping out of his arms, I raced out of the door and shifted into my spirit faster than I could think. Prince?! No longer the next in line as alpha?! I didn’t ask for any of this! “Damon!” I heard my mother shouting through the mind link. I didn’t falter, I just ran. When I get back, I’m going to have to abide by their rules. I’ll be forced into the role of a prince. I’ll…I’ll…. I roared as loudly as a cub could, but it was nothing compared to dad’s, and they wanted me to be some stuck-up royal?! Why is this happening to me? No, I can’t think that hard. For now… I just need to be alone. ---POV Rosemarie--- {Present} Being a rogue is a dangerous task. It requires much planning, diversion, and resourcefulness. Just like in the world of prides, sleuths, packs and covens, there are levels of dangers attached to the species you are born into as a rogue. Werecats tend to be solitary in nature and are great at hiding, so the rogue life for them isn’t always a bad thing. However, they are hunted for their pelts by humans and find it impossible to curb their hunger for revenge as one after another dies for nothing but a materialistic item shown off for wealth. Wolves are the natural species one thinks about when addressing rogues. They tend to be mangey and unkept. Disgusting creatures always getting into mischief. Fighting over land that either belongs to someone else or land they attempted to accumulate for themselves. Yeah, the irony is not lost on any of us. Banished wolves that still attempt to live as a pack. Did they miss the memo? They are pretty low on the totem pole out here anyway and lose easily to other supernatural beings. So, they go above and beyond to make those who choose to, or are given the option of the pack life, miserable. Jealousy is a cruel mistress. Witches are solitary by nature, just like the werecats, but they are stronger with a coven. It is very rare to see a lone witch anywhere for that matter, because they like power so much. Now werebears are an entirely different thing. Because of our size, vulnerability to hunters, and endurance, we are the most hunted and the hardest to survive unless we act like the species we turn into. We are the strongest without hesitation and all other supernatural tend to avoid us. So, help from them in our time of need is out of the question. It doesn’t help that the stories told about werebears tend to be along the lines of ruthless, bloodthirsty killers, or something of the like. So, we assimilate into the bears of our surroundings and attempt to hide in plain sight. Hibernate, hunt, and roar just like the bears of our region. I am one of these unwanted creatures. The rogues everyone has such distain for. Dirty, unwanted, and forced to move from place to place for the safety of myself and others. However, there is no sob story here. My parents were as I am. Rogues with no home. To my dismay, they were killed by hunters. It’s fine. I was old enough to hide and get away. I survived. They didn’t. Enough said. I’m a werebear. It’s part of being who we are. Kill or be killed. I’ll get over it. I have gotten over it. As the months turned to years, I found Parker. No one of grandeur or anything. He was a rogue werebear as well. A beautiful brown bear and great at protecting me and himself. We became very close, and it felt like we were untouchable. It felt like we were invincible. Until…. “Oh, congratulations! It's a boy.” The nurse called and the both of us were elated. We weren’t mated or anything, but we thought it would be nice to grow our group, so many of the men paired off with the women shifters, and we all had children over the last two years. I was the last one. Thankfully, the moon goddess blessed us with a boy. He should be safer in this harsh world than I ever could be. That alone made this hardship worth it. I gave birth to him shortly after my twenty-third birthday and my fifth year assimilated into the bears of the great northern wilderness. The seventh sleuth I’ve bonded with on my journeys. I huffed loudly as the small cub whined while the nurse looked him over, sniffing for anything that may be out of place. Giving birth in our shifted form is extremely dangerous and forces our young to shift before birth. It can and has led to numerous deaths in our sleuth. I was more than concerned, but now, seeing the small brown bundle of fur, I couldn’t be happier that we both survived. “We will name him Joshua.” My protector… or Parker called out to the shifters, awaiting the verdict of my - and the cub’s - life. To be honest, I don’t know what else to call him. We may be invincible and have a child together, but nothing in my spirit attaches me to him enough to progress our relationship past protector and protected. If anything, my spirit hates the guy, but she understands. So, we made a compromise. Like she always says, not my mate, not her problem. However, I still nodded with glee. “Yes, that would be a wonderful name.” I called, and the happiness and relief of the others was heard loud and clear. I already know why though. They couldn’t afford to lose another female of breeding age. In this year alone we have already lost four…. Four of fifteen. “Perfect. Joshua he shall be.” Parker called and licked my cheek as the bears roared around us. My little Joshua was only a cub for a few months before winter hit. It was time for us to prepare for hibernation, but no matter how hard we tried, sleeping for the entire winter seemed to be what separated us from the wild beasts we tried to emulate. During that time, Joshua stayed with me. Parker became distant and worked with the other men to protect us. Like I said, nothing past protector and protected. Days turned to weeks, and we only had a few encounters with hunters. Then, as the men predicted, we were safer with cubs. I guess some of the hunters had a conscience? Our bellies were full, and our dens were warm and joyous. Then the winter grew darker and harsher as the final hit of the season rolled through Alaska. The conditions were too frigid for the spring to produce a good crop. As the days turned to almost a week without food, the men in our group started to turn wild. Their eyes shifted from yellows, deep oranges, and hazels, to blacks and deep reds as their bears’ instincts kicked in. I guess this was one of the main reasons they call us bloodthirsty. Just like living amongst the humans, there are dangers to living amongst the animals too. The instincts that all would frown upon if we lived in a city or walked on two legs instead of hunkering down in dens and catching fish with our teeth. Unfortunately, one of those instincts was to eat what they could find. What was weak and could not fight back as they were weakened with no food to keep their energy high. The…the cubs. The females scattered in all directions, making sure they didn't leave a scent or a trail. The only thing pushing us forward was the worry that the men would catch up. Sadly, the further away we got, the more we realized they might just abandon us because there would be fewer mouths to feed. So, we all met up at a rendezvous point many miles away from our prior starting point and hoped that the females left behind were safe and had found a way out. Once we made it to a city, thousands of miles away from our initial home, we knew the drill. Hide out. Don’t get caught…. However, we were not expecting to stumble upon someone else’s territory. A territory with a public shelter.