Page 8 of Grumpy Special Ops Bear: Ep. 3
“We should head home and wait for Fergus’s clan to make a mistake.”
“I will not leave without that Protector.”
“You’re going to get us killed.”
“So be it,” I snapped, thrusting forward and wrapping a clawed hand around Boyle’s throat. “If every one of you has to die, then that’s what will happen. We need to get Trinity, and we need Fergus to start the war.”
Boyle grunted under my grasp. “Fergus is too smart. He won’t do it.”
“He won’t have a choice.” I shoved Boyle away, turning my back to look over the treetops once more. “Get the others. Spread the search wider. We have to find them.” I heard Boyle’s footsteps crunch through the snow, and I called a warning over my shoulder. “And if you come back without good news, I’ll kill you myself.”
Boyle huffed in reply as he stalked off through the trees and back down the hill.
Chapter 5
Trinity
I felt different.I wasn’t sure what had happened during my talk with Fergus, but ever since, I’d felt strange, like the blood flowing through my veins was on fire and I could do, fight, or kill anything. It was as if someone had flipped a switch the second I learned Boyle had murdered my parents. All my senses had abruptly zeroed in on that one leering face with the scar that had been haunting me for days.
I was going to make sure my face was the last thing he ever saw.
“Trinity? Are you going to come with us? Or do you want to continue your staring contest with the tree?” Cutter called out.
I flicked my gaze around to find Fergus was gone, and I was left with Grant and Cutter, both watching me with curious eyes.
“Trinity, leave the damn tree alone,” Cutter snapped. He came to my side, tugging lightly on my uninjured arm. “Let’s go do something. You need a distraction.”
“No, I need a shot of vodka,” I blurted.
“That won’t do shit for you,” Grant mumbled. “Hunting might.”
“The wolves?” I asked, perking up.
“No, we’re hungry,” Cutter divulged. “How about an elk?”
I gagged, remembering what the wolf pack had done to the other elk. “As long as it’s well done,” I whispered, forcing the images out of my mind.
I followed Cutter and Grant into the trees and watched in stunned silence as they boldly stripped and shifted from men to bears.
My lips parted. “You shifters sure don’t believe in modesty, huh?”
The cracking and rearranging of their bones should have grossed me out, but I’d seen too much lately to be affected by it. It was simply another thing to add to my fucked-up-things-shifters-do list. Frankly, Grant and Cutter were magnificent creatures, smaller than Fergus but still easily four times my size.
Grant, the polar bear, glanced over his large shoulder and clacked his teeth.
I watched, fascinated, as the two exchanged grunts and huffs, flashing their teeth at each other, until they finally seemed to decide what they wanted to do.
Cutter gave me a light nudge on the leg with his gigantic head.
“No need to shove,” I spat out as I began traversing the snow-covered landscape.
It was eerily quiet around us. There were no animal sounds, and the wind wasn’t howling. The storm had broken. However, the sky was black with dark clouds rolling in closer, meaning more snow was on the way. For now at least, it was calm.
Our footsteps crunched in the snow as we meandered on, in no real hurry to get wherever we were going. I found their presence comforting. Unlike the wolves, these shifters didn’t make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end or my gut clench in apprehension. Instead, I was oddly at peace between them as my hands ran through their fur.
They didn’t seem to mind me either. Neither treated me like I was a nuisance, and they’d simply bump me in the correct direction when they moved. It felt right to be so near them. It was almost as if I were home.
The thought made me halt, and the two bears turned to stare at me.
