Page 31 of Alokar
The growling from inside the tent grew exponentially louder, and I heard the unmistakable sounds of Ewok rising—the rustle of fabric, the creak of his powerful frame unfolding—but he remained inside, trusting me to handle the situation. I loved knowing he was there, ready to intervene if needed, but I also appreciated that he respected my ability to defend myself.
“No,” I snapped at Rodney. “What I am is selective.” He flinched as my words hit their mark. “I’m not interested in you, Rodney. Never have been, never will be.” I wagged my finger directly in his face for emphasis, noting with satisfaction how his unfocused eyes struggled to track the movement. “You need to get it through your thick, alcohol-soaked skull, or next time, I’m going to let my boyfriend Ewok explain it to you.” My grinturned deliberately malicious. “And I promise if he explains it to you, it won’t be pleasant.”
Rodney sneered, attempting to project toughness and bravado, but I caught the unmistakable flicker of fear that flashed through his bloodshot eyes. At least he wasn’t a complete idiot—Ewok was easily twice his size.
I turned toward our tent, eager to return to Ewok’s arms, when a resounding crash erupted through the mountain laurel behind me. The sound of splintering branches and thundering footsteps made my blood freeze. I spun just in time to see an enormous grizzly bear exploding through the foliage, its massive form barreling directly toward me. Saliva dripped from its bared fangs, which gleamed wickedly in the pale pre-dawn light, and large, dark eyes fixated on me, wild with bloodlust.
The bear was too close—impossibly, devastatingly close. Even Ewok, with his supernatural speed and strength, wouldn’t reach me in time. I tensed instinctively, throwing my arms up to protect my head and neck, bracing myself for the crushing impact of eight hundred pounds of muscle and fury.
But instead of razor-sharp claws and crushing jaws, all I felt was Rodney pushing me out of the way.
Ewok
It felt like a form of torture to let Hannah leave my arms. Every fiber of my being remained hyperaware of her presence—my senses tracking her every movement like a compass needle drawn north. I could detect the delicate fragrance of mountain laurel as she sought privacy behind the glossy-leaved shrubs. The soft, contented humming that escaped her lips—a melody of happiness and contentment—made my chest swell with pride. Even her returning footsteps created a rhythm that my heart seemed to echo, each step bringing her closer to our bed—to me.
I drew in a deeper, more deliberate breath, my protective instincts flaring although she’d ventured only a few feet from our tent. The complex mix of mountain scents filled my nostrils—the distant musk of wolf packs roaming many miles away, their presence too remote to warrant concern. More troubling was the heavy, wild scent of grizzly lingering in the air currents, though not near enough not to pose immediate alarm.
The most pressing danger materialized in an entirely different form—the acrid stench of stale alcohol and unwashed human flesh.
Rodney.
Every muscle in my body coiled with barely restrained violence. I wanted nothing more than to drive my fists into his face until he understood Hannah was mine and mine alone. The primitive urge to claim and defend surged through my veins, and involuntary growls began rumbling from deep within my chest—sounds I couldn’t suppress even if I’d wanted to.
But my mate was a fierce warrior in her own right. She possessed both the strength and independence to handle the confrontation. I knew she would want—no, demand—the opportunity to face him down on her own. Still, I remained coiled like a spring, every nerve ending alive with readiness to burst from our tent and tear Rodney limb from limb if he dared lay even a single finger on her.
When his slurred voice called her a whore, the insult hit me like a physical blow. I surged to my feet, my massive frame filling the confines of our small tent as rage coursed through every cell of my body. I inhaled deeply, my enhanced olfactory senses immediately detecting the sharp, spicy scent that always accompanied Hannah’s anger—she was furious. Rodney’s own scent had shifted too, his drunken belligerence giving way to the sour tang of genuine fear when Hannah invoked my name and wielded me like a weapon against his advances.
I would have gladly beaten him into unconsciousness if she’d given me even the slightest indication that she desired it. The thought of demonstrating exactly why he should fear me sent a dark thrill through my soul, but I decided that perhaps the mere sight of my imposing form would be sufficient to send the cowardly human male scurrying back to whatever hole he’d crawled from.
I moved toward the tent opening, ready to make my presence known, when the thunderous sound of something large crashing through the nearby treeline shattered through the air. The horses tethered on the far side of our clearing immediately began stamping and whinnying in distress, their animal instincts recognizing danger before their human companionscould process the threat. I drew in a sharp breath, and the overwhelming stench that filled my nostrils made my blood turn to ice—the musty, putrid odor of grizzly bear, far too close now and moving with deadly purpose.
Then Hannah’s scream pierced the dawn like a blade through my heart.
I erupted from the tent just as Rodney shoved Hannah aside with surprising strength, his body becoming a human shield between her and the embodiment of pure, savage fury. The grizzly’s enormous jaws clamped down on Rodney’s neck with a sickening crunch of bone and cartilage, its yellowed fangs sinking deep into flesh as arterial blood sprayed in violent crimson arcs across the dewy grass.
“Ewok!” Hannah’s voice cracked with terror, her body trembling as she crawled toward me. Behind us, Hank’s tent flap snapped open to reveal the old man clutching his rifle with white-knuckled hands, his weathered face etched with helpless frustration. The bear’s massive bulk made any clean shot impossible without risking Hannah or Rodney.
A roar tore from my throat, a sound that seemed to shake the very mountains themselves as I launched myself at the creature. The impact sent shockwaves through both our frames as I tackled the beast, my momentum startling it enough that its death grip on Rodney’s neck loosened. I used that split second to drive the creature backward, our combined weight crashing through the treeline in an explosion of splintering branches and flying leaves.
Beneath the pines, shadows clung to the air like thick velvet, transforming our battle into a nightmare of half-glimpsed violence. While Kerzak possess extraordinary olfactory and auditory senses, our night vision offers only marginal improvement over other species. In the darkness, I relied on heat signatures rather than visual detail, tracking the bear’s movements through the blazing outline of its massive form. Yet even through my thermal perception, something seemed wrong—the creature’s silhouette appeared unnaturally elongated, taller than the other grizzlies I’d seen.
More disturbing still was the overwhelming stench of decay that rolled off the beast. I’d encountered creatures dead for days that didn’t emit this level of putrid corruption. The poor animal must suffer unimaginable agony, its body rotting even as it lived and breathed.
I coiled my muscles to dive at the creature again, determined to end its torment, when Hannah’s voice calling my name sliced through the chaos. I whipped around, immediately locating her silhouette against the warm glow of the campfire’s dying embers. Relief flooded through me as I confirmed she remained unharmed, and I turned back to finish the wounded bear, but the shadows had swallowed it completely. My nostrils flared as I followed its scent, moving away from us much faster than I would have expected a bear so injured to be able.
I turned and ran to my mate.
She and Hank had moved Rodney near the fire, his broken body sprawled across a hastily spread blanket. Hank worked frantically over him, his hands pressing desperately against the gaping wound in Rodney’s neck, trying to stem the crimson torrent that pulsed between his fingers with each weakening heartbeat. Hannah knelt beside them, her delicatefingers wrapped around Rodney’s blood-slicked hand, tears streaming down her pale cheeks in silver rivulets that caught the firelight.
My ears picked up the irregular, stuttering rhythm of Rodney’s failing heart, the wet gurgle of blood filling his punctured throat. The metallic scent of death already clung to him like a shroud—that unmistakable copper tang mixed with the sour smell of a body beginning to shut down. The bear’s massive fangs had severed his artery. No amount of pressure or medical intervention could save him now.
I lowered myself to Hannah’s side, wrapping my arm around her trembling shoulders, offering what comfort I could as we watched Rodney slip from this world.
The forest grew eerily quiet, as if the very mountains held their breath in reverence for the dying. Only the sound of Hank’s frustrated, ragged breathing and Hannah’s soft sobs accompanied the solemn silence that death brings in its wake.
Hank finally sat back on his heels with a defeated sigh, using the blood-soaked sleeve of his flannel shirt to wipe the perspiration from his deeply lined brow. Crimson drenched his hands to the wrists, Rodney’s life essence staining his skin like macabre gloves.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah whispered, her voice holding an odd, hiccupping quality as grief caught in her throat.
