Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“Get out of here, you freak!” the conductor says as he points the barrel of his rifle at me.
I grit my teeth as I try to force my bear back down. It’s hopeless, but I try anyway. I squeeze my body, flexing my muscles to the max as I struggle to force him down. It’s like trying to stop a burst dam with your hands. It’s like trying to hold down a rocket. He’s fucking unstoppable.
He explodes out of me, tearing skin, breaking bones, shredding the only clothes I got.
“Oh, fuck!” the conductor gasps as he raises the shaky barrel of his gun. He fires it at my vicious grizzly but misses by a mile.
Stop, I hiss at my cruel grizzly. Leave him alone. He’s just some guy.
My bear is not having any of it. He crunches the dry leaves as he stomps forward on those massive paws, long strings of drool hanging from his snarling lip. His hateful growls rumble through me as I watch helplessly from the inside.
There’s nothing I can do from in here. He’s too powerful to pull in. Whenever I try, he shakes me off like I’m nothing more than a pesky flea on his back.
Go in the forest, I scream at him. It’s right there!
He never listens to me anymore.
It wasn’t always like this. Years ago, before he turned, we actually got along. That feels like a lifetime ago now. We’re so far from that it’s fucking funny.
My grizzly’s thick black claws sink into the hard autumn soil as my bear slowly steps forward, growling like a bloodthirsty beast.
The old man weighs his options and then turns and runs. Bad move. He should have kept shooting.
My bear sprints after him, pumping those big strong legs as I scream at him to stop.
The conductor leaps into the closest train cart and slams the metal door closed. My crazy bear slams his shoulder into it, caving the door in.
Alright! You’ve made your point! That’s enough.
He paces along the train, growling as more people come to check out the reason for the gunshots. They take one look at the giant wild grizzly bear prowling along the train and quickly disappear back into the small station.
Let’s go! I urge him, but my words slide off his back like waves washing over rocks. They have no effect.
A low distant rumbling fills the air. My bear raises his head and releases a furious primal roar. From inside, I can feel the intense anger consuming him.
He’s getting worse every day.
The rumbling gets louder. Dirt bikes. Four of them.
Shit. I hope it’s not who I think it is.
When a bear shifter goes feral, he must be put down. It’s a sad reality, but one that all shifters agree on. It’s for the good of the species. For the good of the packs. For the good of civilization.
There are designated mercenary shifter packs who take care of the problem, and this one has been hunting me through three states.
They call themselves The Foxhounds. Hunters of feral shifters and I’m their main target.
My bear catches their scent and the hairs along his back stand up. He lowers his head and snarls at the approaching sound.
Behind the exhaust of those engines, that familiar smell hits our nose and I’m filled with a feeling of dread.
What the fuck is he doing here?
This is not good. I try to grab onto my bear and pull him in, but he’s unshakable. There’s no way he’s going to budge when he’s infuriated like this.
I urge him to run away instead, but he plants his big paws and faces the dangerous rumbling noise with a rabid eagerness. There’s nothing my grizzly likes more than unleashing violence onto the world. It’s payback to the universe for depriving him of his mate.
The Foxhounds arrive, bouncing along the train tracks on their dirt bikes.
Jackson is leading the charge as usual. His black hair is shorter than the last time I saw him, but he’s still got that same determined look in his eyes. My older brother always insisted on finishing a job.
His team members are behind him, looking ready for a fight. They came to the right place. My bear will definitely oblige.
Ryker stops his bike with a grin on his face. He revs the engine with those big arms that are covered in tattoo sleeves. I can smell the Kodiak bear he’s hiding inside.
“There’s our favorite teddy bear,” Grayson says as he hops off his bike and cracks his huge knuckles. He’s got a giant polar bear ready to burst out that’s nearly as big as my enormous grizzly.
Remy arrives last and swings his long leg off his bike. My bear spots that long Samurai sword that’s always strapped to his back and lets out a low growl.
“Come on, mon ami,” Remy, the French Canadian wolf shifter says with a sly smirk. “On va faire ça nice and easy, okay?”