Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“You seem to be having a bit of engine trouble, Draco,” she calls out. “Do you need any assistance?”
His shit-eating grin fades as a second patrol car pulls up behind hers. Then rage boils through my blood when I hear a growing roar of engines in the distance, and realize what this whole thing was supposed to be.
Two dozen bikers speed down the highway toward us, shouting to each other about ripping apart a snitch’s snatch. Samantha and the deputy with her can’t likely hear that over their engines, but I can. Pierce, he’s already waving them past before they could possibly see him beyond the patrol cars, so they’re slowing—apparently not yet realizing that two vehicles are flashing lights instead of one—while Sam’s scent runs sour and cold with fear.
Then someone in that pack sees that their plan wasn’t running like they intended. There’s a lot of swerving and jostling as some are speeding up and others slowing down, then they figure it out and ride smoothly past, wagging their tongues at Sam, yelling everything they’d like to do to her.
Yelling what they will do to her. Her scent is boiling with fury and fear as they ride on. Shouting that they’ll get another chance.
But they won’t.
Rage surges hot and blinding across my rupturing flesh, ripping through fur, shearing through muscle.
On two feet again, but nothing like a man—I go after them.
5
SAMANTHA
I get off work much, much, much later than I expect.
Exhausted. Aching. Sickened.
I snag a beer out of the fridge and head out to the back porch. The sun’s setting on the shittiest day I’ve seen in all my years on duty.
Brandon comes out of the barn, wiping oily hands on a towel. Wary, too. Not sure how I’ll react.
To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure either when we found that pileup of bikers. Somehow, he didn’t kill any of them. But between the wrecks and the grizzly monster—one of the biker’s description, not mine—they all got busted up pretty good. Some worse than others. Some will be able to walk out of the hospital. Not easily, but doable.
Not one of them is going home, though.
“I’m guessing you called in the tip about the kids,” I say as he reaches the porch.
“Yeah.”
I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “What was your intention, going to their clubhouse?”
“I went berserk. I didn’t have intentions. After smelling how terrified you were, after hearing what they intended to do to you, the only driving thought in my head was to kill them all and salt the ground where they lived. Metaphorically.”
“But you didn’t kill them.”
He levels a serious look at me. “My whole purpose is to protect the ones I love. And if I crossed so fucking far over your line…you’d have been torn up over it. Hurt by it.”
“Maybe not so torn up after I saw the kids they were trafficking.” But he’s right about how conflicted I would have been. “I’m glad you were there. For a second I wasn’t sure if the other bikers were going to stop anyway and if the deputy would have been dragged into it with me.”
“And Pierce?”
My smile is wide and vicious. “Arrested him at the hospital.”
“Did it feel good?”
“Felt real fucking good.” But my smile fades, because he’s still holding himself taut. “You all right?”
“Did you see me?” His voice roughens. “The berserker?”
Briefly. In my headlights. After a terrifying roar stood every hair on my body on end.
“You mean the big, bloody warrior wearing a bear skin as a cape and the bear’s head as a helmet? I saw. Now sit.”
He sinks into the recliner. Instead of taking my usual seat on the swing, I crawl into his lap. Briefly he stiffens, then his arms come around me.
I heave a deep sigh and snuggle in, my head on his shoulder. “How did you smell me? I drank that tea.”
“That only stops wolves from smelling you. It’s right there in the legend—he saved the stag from wolves.”
“But Makena said her uncle hunted the berserkers who killed her family. That they didn’t smell him coming for them.”
“Did he ask the berserkers whether they smelled him before he killed them?”
“Guessing not. So you can still smell when I want you?”
His breath is hot against my ear, his voice deep. “Yeah, I can. You’re tired, though.”
“Also kind of a mess. After seeing all I did. Is that the kind of thing that sends bears into the woods?”
His fingers smooth over my hair. “Sometimes.”
“Why were you worried whether I saw you? I’ve seen Alicia covered in blood. And I’ve seen drawings of what berserkers are supposed to be. I didn’t realize that it was actually your own bear skin you wore but…” I’m not sure what I’m asking. But then I realize that I do know. “Last time you went berserk, at my bedroom door, then you went to find peace in the bear. Will you need to do that again? To leave?”