I blink fast, trying to dry my eyes. I’m a polar bear, for god’s sake, not some tamed pussycat.
“The guard shift is any minute,” Kieran says from behind me, his attention on his laptop’s screen. “They’ll be distracted and won’t know what to do when three huge bears come barreling in.”
He sounds almost gleeful, though I know he’s just as eager to have Goldie back safely as I am.
“Weston’s mine,” I growl, my hands curling into fists, claws poking into sensitive flesh. My brothers’ eyes are on me, neither speaking. “He had something to do with Sylvie’s death.” I slam my fist against my chest. “I feel it here.”
“Alright,” Marcus says calmly. “That prick is yours. But I’m taking the elder Westons down. They fucked with our families for too long.”
“I guess I’ll just maul anything with a gun aimed at us,” Kieran mutters from the backseat. Under any other circumstances, I’d laugh at the bitter note in his voice. But my bear is demanding only one thing, on an endless loop:save our mate.
“Who’s that?” I hear Kieran ask. My eyes cut to the driveway, where an older-model sedan crunches over the gravel.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Marcus grumbles.
“What?” I press, my patience thin.
“It’s Father Patrick. They called a goddamned priest.”
A loud roar breaks free from my chest.
“He’s trying to go through with the wedding!” The words come out nearly unrecognizable, my voice like gravel. “We need to get in therenow!”
Marcus blows air out of his nose, his eyes going unfocused as he calculates the risks.
“Fine. But keep a tight leash on your bears, brothers. We don’t want any innocent casualties. Get our girl, get our revenge, get out.”
“Yes, sir,” Kieran drawls. “Let’s crack some skulls.”
The usually mild-mannered brown bear is nowhere to be found. In its place is a vengeful mate.
“Let’s go,” I snap as I open the passenger door. I take off my T-shirt, then kick off my boots and jeans, my bear already clawing at my insides, eager to break out of my skin. It only takes me a few seconds to shift, the wild beast taking control of my body and leaving only a shred of my humanity behind.
No innocents, I tell my bear.
I bet the Westons treat their servants like cattle—they don’t deserve to pay for their masters’ sins.
My bear harrumphs, impatiently waiting for our brothers to finish undressing and shifting as well. The bottoms of my paws itch to cover ground, eat up the distance between our mate and us.
Marcus, having completed his shift a moment before Kieran, rears back on his hind legs, letting loose a roaring battle cry that scares birds in the woods behind us. Kieran and I echo the call, and together we charge into enemy territory.
The first guard doesn’t have time to scream. I’m on him in a flash, bringing him down to the ground, and tearing out his throat. His blood tastes bitter as it coats my tongue, but still I savor it.
The second and third guards manage to raise their weapons, but my brothers knock them out of their hands before a shot could be fired off. They join their dead colleague on the ground.
Little by little, we conquer the Westons’ garishly decorated mansion, bypassing shrieking servants and eliminating armed guards. It doesn’t take us long to reach the great hall, where Goldie is standing before a priest reeking of fear.
Weston holds Goldie by the neck, his eyes wild, a gun trembling in his free hand.
“What the fuck is this?” he yells, looking between us like he can’t decide which bear is the biggest threat.
Newsflash, asshole—we all want you dead.
Goldie’s shoulders drop with relief, her eyes welling up with tears even as she smiles at us.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispers, bringing her bound hands to her chest.
A low growl vibrates in my throat at the sight of her being coerced into marriage by the piece of excrement by her side. Thomas Weston has wasted enough oxygen in this world. It’s time he gave back, time for nature to feed on his remains.
