Island of the Alphas (Steamy Werebear Shifter BBW Menage Romance) by Willow Wilde

Island of the Alphas
     
    T he first thing I was aware of was the oppressive, blinding light. Groaning, I groggily lifted a lazy arm to shield my eyes, although the effort was somewhat lackluster. As I descended into a fit of coughs, I felt the earth around me give way slightly, but not enough to alarm me.
     
    Soft. I’m laying on something soft.
     
    As this realization dawned on me, I realized that I could smell salty air…hear the slight crashing of waves…
     
    Opening my eyes slowly, I cowered from the blinding sunlight. My entire body ached as I rolled onto my side, my face pressing against the moist sand. Just past my toes, I could see the water lapping away, struggling to reach me — and I desired the cold, comforting touch of the water on my skin. As I uncoiled my legs and pushed my unbeaten feet down into the surf, the outmost edges of the sea rolled soothingly over my ankles, restoring some sort of clarity to my groggy mind.
     
    A shipwreck. Panic. Screaming.
     
    I sat up too quickly, feeling my head roaring in protest. Clutching my skull, I tried to stabilize the mounting pressure under my temples. Careful. Eaaaasy does it.
     
    I had no idea how long I’d been washed up on this beach. Gazing around, I saw that I was in a small alcove, and my eyes rolled over the piercing rocks that jutted from the surf, the open ocean behind them.
     
    My name is Keira , I recalled. I was on a cruise ship across the open water. There was an accident. The ship started to sink. Everyone flew into a panicked mob. I was knocked overboard. The ship was sailing away, drifting underwater…there were lifeboats…it was so dark, nobody could see me…
     
    Glancing around my surroundings again, I decided that I had clearly had won the freaking survival lottery. When I went overboard, it had been too dark to spot any land, but wherever I was now could not have been a healthy swim away. I remembered struggling for my life against the battering of the waves, dropping underwater and being pulled with a current…but the current wasn’t precisely tugging me underwater, now that I thought about it…and then there were all the jagged stones in the waves. Even just making it here, without my fortune carrying me on its unwavering shoulders, I would have been torn to shreds or battered to death.
     
    But all my speculation meant nothing to my current set of circumstances, because I realized that I was horrendously parched. My mouth was drier than bone, and I needed to find myself some water. In desperation, my hands dove into the surf and threw a pathetic few scoops of saltwater to my mouth, but the foul taste and salinity burned, and I felt my stomach turn slightly as I stopped.
     
    No, I needed freshwater . Pulling myself up from the sand, I peered into the woods that lined the back of the beach. They were only a few strides away, and I hoped that I could find a clean water source soon.
     
    For a fraction of a second, I thought that I had seen three peering sets of eyes in the woods, gazing upon me. Hesitance made me falter, but it must have been a trick of my delirium, for they were almost immediately gone.
     
    Reluctant to stagger in their direction, but unwilling to remain thirsty and sunbaked on this beach any longer, I put the ocean to my back and crept into the woods.
     
    *              *              *              *
     
    Even in my pressing need to find a fresh source of water, I couldn’t ignore the staggering beauty of the forest. The trees were thin enough here for me to see in a reasonable distance no matter where I turned. The floor was a thick, spry layer of the greenest, softest grass I had ever seen — walking across it felt like crossing a cloud. As I wandered between the trees, I would occasionally spot bright, colorful lizards of various sizes frozen on the trees. If I took a step closer, they would immediately scurry up into the branches and out of sight.
     
    There were