Page 132 of Specter Bred

A second later, Graves stepped out of the trees.

For a moment, I saw it — how easily that patrolman had mistaken him for a bear. Graves was fucking massive, broad enough through the shoulders to make the space between the trees seem narrow as he moved through them. But it wasn’t just his size.

There was something predatory in the way he walked, each step deliberate, with the absolute confidence of a man who knew exactly where he was going and what he would do when he got there. He didn’t move like someone entering unfamiliar territory. He moved like someone that had already decided the territory belonged to him.

Yeah. Grizzly made a hell of a lot more sense now.

He wore nothing but a pair of black briefs, his fatigues slung over one shoulder. Water still clung to his scarred skin, droplets tracing slow paths over the hard planes of his chest and abs before disappearing beneath the waistband. His greying hair was damp, and every step carried the unmistakable confidence of a predator returning to camp after a morning swim.

Despite my best efforts to appear unaffected, I couldn't stop my breath from catching at the sight of him. I'd never seen Grizzly wearing so little in broad daylight. The night before, shadows had concealed the finer details of his body, leaving only glimpses. Now, the morning sun left nothing to the imagination.

The brutal burns which carved across the left side of his face and scalp stretched much farther than I'd realized. They continued down his neck and shoulder, spilling across his chest and ribs before disappearing beneath the waistband of his briefs. Raised patches of pale pink scar tissue cut through his skin, mapping the path of a fire fierce enough that it should have killed him.

Somehow... it hadn't.

He turned to retrieve a canteen from his pack, and my attention snagged on a tattoo spanning nearly the entire breadth of his back.

A massive grizzly.

The bear's head was lowered, jaws parted in a silent snarl, its broad shoulders stretching with every movement Graves made. Part of the tattoo disappeared beneath the scar tissue; the ink softened and distorted where the burns had healed, while the unmarred half remained dark and striking.

Above the grizzly, vivid flames climbed toward his shoulders.

Their lines were crisp, the ink darker and brighter than the weathered bear beneath, untouched by the scar tissue that warped the older tattoo.

He'd clearly added the flames later, after the burns had healed.

A grizzly wreathed in flames stood as a permanent reminder that he'd walked through hell and somehow came out the other side.

"Not as impressive as that little horse you've got," Graves said, catching me staring.

Heat crept into my cheeks. My hand instinctively brushed the tattoo on my hip.

"I got it right before I enlisted," I muttered.

He hummed, dropping his pack beside a fallen log before leaning against it. Without taking his eyes off me, he tore open an MRE with practiced ease.

"Why a horse?" he said as he nodded toward my hip.

"People think horses are prey because wolves hunt them," I said with a shrug. "What they forget is a horse can kill a wolf with one kick. They aren't dangerous because they have fangs or claws. They're dangerous because people underestimate them."

"True, but wolves hunt in packs. Not sure the horse stands a chance, even if it kills one wolf."

"Well, the problem with a wolf pack is that every wolf solves the same problem the same way. They all hunt alike. They all fight alike. Which means they all share the same weaknesses. One well-placed kick can drop a wolf. Find the weakness in one, and you've found the weakness in the entire pack."

I met his eyes.

"But a pack made up of different animals?" A small smile tugged at my lips. "That's a lot harder to kill."

"And which animals would you put together in a pack?" he asked.

I thought for a few moments, considering my options.

"A grizzly would be my first pick."

His brow lifted.

"Strong. Fearless. The kind of animal the rest of the pack naturally falls in behind. The one you send into the worst fight because you know it'll still be standing when the smoke clears."