Page 5 of Bear Facts

Nothing for it. Shane would have to start maiming and hope he didn’t kill anyone. The wolves snarled and fought, already far gone in madness. Shane’s earth-shaking bear growls mixed with theirs in crazed response.

A sudden shotgun blast boomed through the chaos.

The part of the grizzly that was still Shane thought, Oops, they woke up Mama Bear.

Two of the wolves dropped from Shane’s side. The last one—Leo—held on fast.

The quiet thunk of a tranquilizer gun sounded, and Leo went limp. Shane gave one final shake of his great head, at last dislodging the asshole.

The trouble was, the tranq dart had gone all the way through Leo’s foreleg and nicked Shane. Most of the tranquilizer spent itself in the wolf, but enough leaked into Shane’s blood to make his joints rubbery.

Shane swung around, snarling, to face Eric Warden, who held the tranq rifle ready to fire again.

Shane’s legs gave out, and he sank to his belly with a grunt. When Eric saw that neither Leo nor Shane was getting up, he moved the rifle to another target.

Nell had fired into the air. She always loaded her shotgun with beanbag rounds, but the noise and the terrifying sight of the large, brindle-haired Nell, rage on her face, was enough to stop any Shifters in their tracks.

“Graham!” she bellowed. “Get these wolves under control, or you and I are going to have a problem.”

So much for not letting the unruly Lupines see their leaders fighting.

Graham, who’d returned at a run, stepped up to Nell, she as tall as he was, meeting her enraged dark gaze with his gray one.

“That’s what your sons were supposed to be doing,” Graham snapped.

Nell, not intimidated, leaned into his face. “Who the hell decided to send my boys after your half-feral wolves? Dish out your own discipline, McNeil.”

“It was my idea, actually.” Eric’s mild tones cut through Nell’s and Graham’s hostilities.

Eric’s Shifter was a snow leopard, a beautiful animal. Even those who loathed Felines admitted that. In human form, he had dark hair, jade-green eyes, and plenty of hard muscle. No matter how dire the situation, Eric always spoke as though he was simply having a casual conversation, his voice soothing everyone down.

His unruffled demeanor took effect on Nell and Graham. Both turned to him, tense stances relaxing.

Graham’s wolves picked themselves up from where they’d dropped when Nell’s gun had gone off and shifted back to human form. They stood in a clump, breathing hard, knowing they were in deep shit. Leo remained wolf, sound asleep and snoring.

“I wanted Shane and Brody to talk to the Lupines,” Eric explained. “Solving things between them, instead of having to be bashed on by their leader. I’d have explained, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” Eric scanned the Lupines, none of whom dared meet his gaze. “They’re more annoyed than Graham or I realized.”

The wolves wouldn’t look at Nell either, and most especially not at Graham.

“Yeah, I see that,” Graham conceded. “When it’s about mates, things get dicey.”

Eric continued. “I assumed that since neither Shane nor Brody are mated, they’d have mutual grounds for discussion. My apologies, friends.” He flashed a grin to Nell, Shane, and Brody. “Next time, I’ll send my sister.”

Even Graham’s lips twitched at that. While the Lupines had hotly boasted they’d take Cassidy away from her human mate, everyone standing knew damn well she’d wipe the floor with them. No one challenged Cassidy.

The small amount of tranq dissipated enough so Shane could heave himself to his feet. He was groggy and nauseated, or maybe the nausea came from the sight of the Lupines, shaggy-haired and naked, who clumped together, awaiting Graham’s displeasure.

Shane shook himself out, sending dust and dried grass over the nearest Lupine, who winced but didn’t say a word.

Then Shane slowly compressed himself into his human form. Shifting when he was enraged was easy—changing back took time and a painful rearrangement of bones, muscle, and tendons.

For some reason, everyone stared at Shane while he struggled to rise to his human feet. Brody had already shifted, but no one had ogled him.

Shane leaned down and plucked his shirt out of the mud. He held it up, scanning the holes which had rendered the fabric so much gray scrap.

He hurled it back to the ground in fury. “Fuck this shit,” he declared. “I’m out of here.”

Without waiting for Eric or Graham, or even his mother, to agree to let him go, Shane turned his back on them all and marched toward the small one-story house he called home.

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