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But no matter, Timber told himself. He narrowed his eyes at his opponent, who had no problem completely stripping down in the pouring rain in front of spectators. Thunder clashed overhead, signaling the beginning of what would likely be a fight for the ages.
“The rule of three will stand here!” Elias bellowed. “The one who does not rise within the count of three shall be the loser. Fight fair, gentlemen."
Elias held his hand in the air, then struck it downward as lightning shattered above. Timber had barely any time to think because Edmund, the man, had become Edmund, the beast, as fast as the lightning had struck.
Timber shifted, too, dodging the leap of the young bear. He turned on a dime, though, slashing his claws and connected with a cerebral strike to Timber’s face. Timber’s body felt suddenly heavy, stumbling backward in his bear form, white-hot streaks of pain pulsing instantly.
He nearly toppled to the ground in shock, but he didn’t. He turned as he shifted and struck the youngster's back, making a precise slice just below Edmund’s jawline. He howled like a whole other animal, serving to frustrate the beast that likely didn’t lose often.
“Go, Timber!”
In the seconds it took for Edmund to recover, he’d turned to the soft, flowery voice that beckoned him. He saw that the women and children had come to watch the battle, shuffling under a single umbrella as rain blasted down on their desperate bodies.
Lyra held the umbrella but stood there, startled and bursting with love, while rain smacked down over her form. Marigold was hugging her side.
He had to win. There was no other option.
Edmund charged him, slamming his big bear head into his gut. The wind was briefly knocked out of Timber as he finally did fall to the ground, the youthful bear straddling his body to throttle his face and jugular. He landed a few strikes to his chin before Timber was able to raise his forearms and block the blows.
Timber was becoming enraged, powered by the love for Lyra, Marigold, and his new charges of the Montana Maul. He used the strength of his entire body to shove Edmund off, causing the bear to roll down a small, nearby embankment.
“Timber!”
It wasn’t just Lyra yelling but also the other shifter members. Their pride in him fueled his energy as he pounced over the hill, aiming to get a double punch to the face and stomach of the inexperienced brute.
But Edmund was smarter than Timber had anticipated.
He’d hid behind a mighty oak as rain pummeled their fur and successfully tripped Timber. He face-planted into the ground, tasting the wet dirt and musk of last fall’s branches.
Edmund then leapt onto his back and bent his neck upward.
Timber couldn’t breathe and started to panic as he stared up into the foaming mouth of his enemy. His airway pinched as rain soaked into the wide saucers of his hysterical pupils.
He couldn’t go out this way.
FORTY
LYRA
The rain pounded like a punch-drunk boxer as the two bears fought. Lyra felt like her body was detached from itself, floating overhead, watching herself holding the umbrella while her body was permeated with rain and also while watching the man of her dreams have his neck unnaturally bent toward the sky.
That morning, she had woken up with a jolt. She was naked, memories of their incredible lovemaking tumbling through her mind like a waterfall, which was instantly eradicated by the sight of a note next to the bed.
Fear froze her musing waterfall even before she read it. The bastard had left without saying goodbye, instructing her to stay home with Marigold and the rest of the women.
She had heard some commotion outside the bedroom and got dressed before finding the other wives were having a heated discussion. They wanted to watch the fight, but their husbands had told them not to. She joined in, zipping up her sweater swiftly.
“I am not staying here and waiting all day,” she said to the women. “Let’s eat and talk, then we will head out at dusk. They can’t expect us all just to stay here.”
Lyra was acting as a leader without even realizing it. The women agreed, and they piled into one of Timber’s many SUVs. They brought the children with them as thunder cracked above, but that didn’t stop any of the women from climbing out of the car and watching their leader fight for their rights.
Lyra admittedly had never seen a shifter fight before. She had perhaps seen actual bears fight on animal documentaries, but she imagined this was somehow different. Watching it, her hand on the handle of the umbrella shaking from chills, she didn’t think it was different at all.
They were savage, snarling, growling, slashing, and mauling. Edmund was thick and tall, his fur a darker shade than Timber’s, and he moved in a way that was far less thought out than Timber’s. His cruelty was personal, whereas Timber’s was strictly professional.
That could be both a good and bad thing.
When Edmund tumbled down the hill, and Timber had jumped toward him, the figures had moved out of sight. Lyra ran with the umbrella she held with the women and children trailing her, Marigold in her arms. She shielded herself and them behind a thick oak tree, staring in horror as Edmund gained the upper hand.
