Somewhere in the back of my mind, the human part of me knows this is going to be bloody. Knows that once I’m inside that cabin, and see what they’ve done to my mate, there won’t be any holding back.
The bear doesn’t care about anyone else. About right and wrong. His only concern is her.
26
EMMA
Ablood-curdling roar echoes through the forest, shaking the windows in their frames.
Mr. Ashworth freezes above me, his cold hand still clutching my ankle. For one perfect moment, his smug confidence shatters, and I see a man who’s uncertain and out of his element. Afraid.
“What the hell was that?” He hisses, gaze darting from window to window.
Mrs. Ashworth backs away from the camera and turns slowly, trying to identify where the noise came from. “What’s out there?”
Kozlov is already on his feet, pulling a gun from his waistband. “Go.” He snaps at the guards. “Find out what that was and get rid of it.”
The two men exchange an uneasy glance but move toward the door while drawing their weapons. The night swallows them as they step onto the porch; their footsteps crunch on gravel until they fade into nothing.
“Just some wildlife, I’m sure,” Kozlov mutters, but his smile is brittle. Even he knows that the roar signified an intention, a challenge. An attack.
We wait in eerie silence. The camera’s red light blinks on steadily.
A loud, muffled thud. Then a terrified scream, ending in a wet, gurgling sound.
Ashworth scrambles off me to kneel on the edge of the mattress near his wife, who’s gone so pale she looks on the verge of passing out.
A heavy thud against the cabin exterior has everyone turning in that direction as something slides down the wall outside. Something warm and dark begins seeping under the front door, pooling on the hardwood floor.
Blood. So much blood.
Mrs. Ashworth screams, moving to hide behind her husband, clinging to the back of his shirt with her skinny fingers.
“Snake?” Kozlov raises his gun, aiming at the entrance, his hand shaking.
The wooden door bursts inward, sounding like thunder.
For a split second, everything and everyone freezes, transfixed by the beast before them. Then chaos erupts.
A massive grizzly bear fills the doorway, eight hundred pounds of pure rage and muscle, and bigger than any animal I’ve ever seen. Its eyes burn a familiar amber in the dim light, and its roar shakes the cabin’s foundation.
This shouldn’t be possible. Bears don’t just crash through doors.
But this one does.
Kozlov fires. The sound is deafening, so close to my head. The bullet hits the bear’s shoulder, and it jerks back, a spray of red misting the air.
“No!” The word tears from my throat before I can stop it.
I don’t fully understand who or what it is, only that seeing it hurt feels wrong. That warmth in my chest flares into panic.
He’s here to help me. I don’t want him to be killed.
But the bear doesn’t fall. It barely slows. Instead, its lips pull back from white fangs the size of knives, and a growl rumbles from its chest that I feel in my bones.
Kozlov fires again. And again. The bear keeps coming.
The gun finally clicks empty, and Kozlov’s face goes ashen as he realizes nothing he does, no measly handgun, is going to stop it. He scrambles backward, but there’s nowhere else to go.
