It flashed through Blake’s mind that there weren’t as many bears here as he’d have expected. With an organization the size of hers, he thought there would be dozens of bears here, and wolves, and whoever else she had on her payroll. He counted ten.
Krista. He felt Krista. Instinctively, he knew which way to look. She stood there in a space under the spreading branches of an oak tree, and she had a lion cub crouched next to her. The lion cub was as big as she was, and his fur was standing on end. He was ready for battle—but he wasn’t big enough for this fight. Not yet.
He inclined his head for her to run.
She looked at him frantically and pawed at the ground. She wanted to stay and help. He shook his head and growled.
Go.
Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her furry cheeks, but she nodded and hurried towards the edge of the woods with the cub following—only to be stopped by one of Dawnie’s bears.
Krista and Ethan froze where they stood and slowly backed up. The bear reared back, raising a mighty paw in the air. One swipe would likely snap Krista in two. Shifters healed fast, but they weren’t immortal.
Blake let out a challenging howl and launched himself at the bear. This was it. He leaped onto its back, sinking his teeth in.
The bear spun and flung him off, although he took a mouthful of flesh with it. He spit the rank chunk of flesh out on the ground and backed up, drawing it away from Krista.
It ran at him and grabbed him in a bear hug and raked down his flank with one paw, ripping long strips of flesh from him. He howled in pain and clamped down on its neck, and blood flooded into his mouth, rich and warm, but he couldn’t reach the windpipe or jugular.
Krista shrieked aloud. He knew his mate could feel his pain as if it were her own.
And then something astonishing happened. Foxes swarmed over the bear. Easily thirty of them. Climbing up its neck, slashing at its eyes, tearing chunks of flesh off.
Floyd? Was that Floyd, the cowardly fox from Floyd’s Diner? It was, by God.
The bear let go of Blake and he fell to the ground and rolled onto his feet. His whole body radiated with agony. He lunged and bit through the bear’s ankle, severing its tendon in one clean snap.
The woods were full of foxes and wolves. Easily a hundred of them. More.
They were finally turning on the Reeds.
Blood and fur flowed everywhere. He hurried over to Dawnie and saw that Gummi, maddened, was raking at her throat with massive curling claws. His heart broke for the big, dumb bear.
Eva-Jo and Percy lay gasping their last in the dirt, blood leaking from too many wounds to count. They spit curses through scarlet bubbles as the life faded from them, and still the wolves and foxes tore flesh from them, right down to the bone.
Blake shifted back to human form.
“Gummi!” He spit out a mouthful of blood. “Don’t do it. Let the others take care of it. She’s your mama. You’ll never forgive yourself. You’ll never get past it. Don’t!”
Gummi swung around, his eyes crazed. He raised his paws and grabbed Blake and lifted him, and Blake stared into those agonized eyes for what felt like forever.
And then Gummi dropped Blake with a painful thud, and he lumbered away, running into the woods, making a horrible sobbing sound.
Blake staggered to his feet, stumbling through the underbrush, trying to find Krista and Ethan. His wounds bled freely, and his body was on fire with pain.
And he must be hallucinating because he could swear he heard the sound of choppers—really close.
Two bears were heading towards him. They knew that they’d lost everything, their livelihood, their leader… with the whole community turned against Dawnie and her operation, they’d lose their homes, too. This was their last stand, and they’d kill as many as they could before they went down.
He planted himself firmly. He’d die with honor.
And he’d leave behind his mate, alone and unprotected. That hurt his heart. He threw back his head and howled with sorrow and fury—and the bears froze. Then they turned and ran.
He barked loudly, watching them dash for the treeline.Yeah, you better run.
And then it happened. Lions were running past him, after the bears. And Mal, and Dexter, and Stef. They’d come in by chopper, backed up by the Golden Eyes pride. Bleary with blood loss, Blake watched as Stef kicked a bear with her hind legs, staving its skull in.
Within minutes, every bear who’d been with Dawnie was cut down like wheat slashed by a scythe.
