Bear Alpha Fanart Novels & Stories

“Why are you being such a sourpuss all of a sudden?” “I’m not... or... maybe I am...” Lana growls in exasperation and kicks up some gravel with her boot. “Look, I just think that Camilla is going out on a date with the wrong guy, okay? I ship you with Rin, the dark and handsome Beta.”

Gamma Lucian of the red moon pack ushered her in until they waited at the massive Hall for the arrival of the Alpha. Bella watched a man walk down the stairs, short brown hair, tall and had a huge body, a chisel jaw face and a vibrant smile. “He isn’t all that bad” she muttered to herself as he walked closer to her and held her hand. “Hi, you must be Bella, I am Beta Arthur” he introduced himself. Down the drain went the thoughts that he could be the Alpha she was contracted to. Bella could hear another set of footsteps, slow and steady coming down the stairs, she watched a man walk down in a white shirt and black jeans, long black hair with a half bun, a stern face and brown eyes.

“No. There’s 3 packs in the area. I’m the Alpha of one. Jared’s my Beta. Chiara Gamma. Ben’s Alpha of the other. And Hadley the last.” I nod. Jared a Beta. Interesting. Jared’s seriously powerful. My boyfriends a wolf. A beta. I wonder if he ever would’ve told me?

If I'm not mistaken, the Beta Wolf is practically Alpha Arthur’s Beta. But why does he also stare at me with much hate in his eyes?

“Our wolves will ask us to go to the wild forest, and then we will switch bodies with them.” Alaric was lying on his stomach, his eyes sparkling at the pictures of the animals, and he tried to reach for them, but his tiny arms weren't long enough. His weak left leg reflexively wanted to help him, making his body move back and forth. “Ah, ah.” His voice was as adorable as its owner. “Future Alpha, you are too adorable. I can’t take it. You have to take responsibility if my heart can’t beat normally anymore.” Beta Lyra touched her chest and shook her head.

Greenwood’s crest was circled in blood-red ink, Ryder’s Starblood territory carved with deep gouges from the Alpha’s own claws. The Alpha of Silver Fang stood over it, broad-shouldered, his dark hair tied back, golden eyes glinting. His presence filled the chamber like a predator fills a den. “Too long,” he muttered, dragging one claw across the parchment map until it tore. His gaze fixed on Greenwood’s borders, his upper lip curling. “The High Alpha thinks silence is submission. That our stillness means defeat.” His Beta stood a step behind, lean where the Alpha was built of iron, his movements sharper, quicker, like a wolf made to move unseen through shadows.

I ask. "Your old pack appears to be looking for you,” She says. "Well, I'm not surprised,” I comment, taking the notice and looking down at it. “Elseway they can’t claim me dead and appoint a new Alpha … This is funny,” Fire Moon looks confused. “What?” "This…,” I point to the drawing of me, which is situated underneath a headline reading: MISSING Alpha, “Our Beta drew this.” “Your beta?” She asks. Cana growls angrily.

“Thank you so much—“ I pause as I notice the Beta Assistant’s attention wasn’t on me but was on the ground. I raised an eyebrow in confusion, then followed his gaze and— “Ahhhh!!” I cried out in shock, my eyes wide opened and my heart skipped a beat as I looked at the drawing on the ground. It was a drawing of a naked man! Of course, who else would it be but the man I’m obsessed with…the SS+ Alpha, Marcus!

Carefully casual, but presentable. “Can I help you with anything, Alpha?” I ask softly. He whirls around from where he was unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Sun kissed skin upon his chest shows more and more before he pauses his movements. I know he’s from the Passion Pack, which lies right on the coast. I can imagine him lounging upon perfect golden beaches framing foaming aqua water. “Oh, you’re the girl who greeted us, right?” he questions, that quirk of a smile making me uneasy. “And the one who spilt Noah’s drink on his lap.”

Him. A tightness stretched at her throat. He wore the same outfit as every other driver that worked for the mistress; resplendent grey gabardine trousers pressed to a knife edge, the collared shirt creases thrice across the back in military fashion, a leather whip encircling his left hip that she had seen him use to woo the female servants as he cracked it expertly in the air, drawing figures in the air, curling it like a serpent around his bicep as if the item was simply an extension of his arm. She judged him to be no older than twenty-two; a young man fresh from the army hired to work in a position for a lycanthrope second-in-power to the Alpha.