Chapter 1
“Get out of here, you filthy crow!” Chance Hawthorne tossed a jagged piece of timber at the beady-eyed crow that’d been making a pest of itself for the past two weeks. The splintered wood thunked off the corner of the tin roof, falling harmlessly to the forest floor.
That damn crow had been picking through his garbage cans, tearing open the bags, and scattering crap on the forest floor by his home. The scraps of litter might as well have been a dinner bell, signaling the vermin in the woods to come get whatever it considered to be valuable treasure. At the moment, Chance was more than just a little fed up with all of them.
Today, the crow had gone after a string of red yarn. The dangling thread looked more like a floppy, blood-soaked worm, clutched between the bird’s black beak.
The raven-hued feathers ruffled briefly, and in one smooth motion, the bird transferred the yarn from its mouth to its foot then screeched at Chance. Several times. Snapping its beak loudly, and hopping from foot to foot on the ledge of the roof, its beady little eyes looked almost angry. But that wasn’t possible… Birds had brains the size of walnuts. Besides, he hadn’t actually hit the thing.
It continued on, so loud and awkward-sounding, that all of Chance’s anger fizzled. That bird was sassing him.
“The hell?” He chuckled, dragging fingers through his unkempt, shoulder-length hair as he watched that miniature ball of fury hop back and forth on the roof, giving him a piece of its mind. Then swooping down, the bird picked up something in its beak and tossed it at him.
Its aim was unerringly accurate. The sharp sting of a pebble smacking into Chance’s cheek made him wince. “What the hell?”
He rubbed his cheek. That bird was insane. When it dipped its head again, as though to toss something else at him, he decided to get while the gettin’ was good.
Dodging the crow’s pebble attack, he glared hotly at the stupid animal. Something was mighty wrong with that bird.
Chance might have stood out there all day, amused despite the fact that crazy creature had it in for him, if his brother August hadn’t poked his head out the door, glaring at Chance with frosty blue eyes.
“Chance, hurry the hell up already,” he snapped before shutting the door behind him with a not-so-subtle slam.
Rolling his eyes, Chance muttered beneath his breath, not wanting to go back into that house just yet. He and his brothers were on week four of their self-imposed hibernation, a grueling but critical step they had to endure before the coming ritual.
He was restless as hell and tired of staring at the same four walls. Not to mention the fact that even during the best of times, grizzlies hardly acted like the teddy bears that fairy tales had made them out to be. Whining, swearing, and growling had been all they’d done these past few days. And yeah, no baths either. The cabin smelled like ten-day-old gym socks.
He wanted to go hunt and eat. Even that freaking bird was looking tasty right then. He could bag a few of those, pluck ‘em, roast ‘em over an open fire… hell, he would even eat them raw at this point.
Food was a driving force.
But it was forbidden at the moment. Blah, blah, blah … damn mating ceremony was so not worth the constant, gnawing ache in his belly.
The bird squawked loudly, holding its head high, as though it’d won some type of victory.
“Yeah, you wish,” Chance muttered. “Come back and steal my garbage again, next time you might just learn what’s for dinner.”
He realized he probably shouldn’t have said that the moment the crow dive-bombed, screeching loudly as it came at him like a kamikaze.
The front door opened again, and his dual-color-eyed brother Phoenix growled. Rather than just asking him to come inside like a normal person, his brother curled his fingers around Chance’s collar and dragged him inside instead. Phoenix slammed the door behind them.
A second
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