Forever Home (Sawtooth Shifters, #1) by Kristen Strassel

Chapter One
    S hadow
    The plan didn’t change because we were prisoners.
    We weren’t meant to be in one place for this long. Wolves needed to move, needed to hunt. Ryker, the bastard who captured us, knew it, and he’d set it up so we could only hunt each other. Chained, starving, and wallowing in our own filth. The worst part of it was that we’d been outsmarted by one of our own.
    We had the three Lowe brothers in our sights when we’d been caught. We’d meant to scare them away from Ryker’s farm, and avoid a pack war. Little did we know what horrors were actually harbored here. Now we were all in a fight to survive.
    A sliver of the moon lit the open doorway. The dull roar of the crowd rose with the old man’s arrival. No surprise. Nothing on Ryker Farm happened by accident.
    “All right, beasts, I’m upping the ante this month.” Ryker curled his tobacco-stained lips in a nasty smile. Still in his human form, he was skinny as we were, meanness consuming him. All that was left was flesh, bone, and a black heart. No soul. Ryker had every advantage over us. He knew our secrets, our traditions. He knew how to keep us weak. The new moon did us no favors, we relied on its power for our energy. Every month he starved us, beat us, and kept us in complete darkness when we should have been reveling in the moon’s full beauty. It kept us from shifting back to pissed off men. “Whoever wins gets set free.”
    My brothers and I looked at each other, wary. We never saw eye to eye with the Lowes, but they were on the same page with us on this one. Ryker’s promise wouldn’t come without a catch.
    Ryker threw food on the ground. Fucking kibble. The Lowe brothers scrambled for it, pride replaced long ago by the need to survive. Anticipation gnawed at my empty belly. Growls rose from the other side of the pen. Probably made for pigs, we didn’t have room to turn around without hitting another body. Even if we did, our chains were too short to allow it. No place to get away from anyone’s thoughts, especially my own.
    The old farmer cackled as he brought the bag closer to us. My brother Baron nipped at the sack. For that he was rewarded with a boot in the face. Kibble spilled from the torn burlap. “You want to be greedy? That’s all you savages get.”
    Good. We’d be hungry for the fight.
    “Who are we sending out?” my brother Dallas asked, gaze fixed on me. My brothers expected me to have the answers, but it was impossible to think straight with the chain cutting into the skin on my neck. Anger and hunger swirled through my body, mixing together and becoming a dizzy anger. Every time I looked at my brothers, the less I thought I could save them. I couldn’t show weakness, especially with the Lowe brothers close enough to smell it. They’d been calling us weak for years. They’d be picking us out from between what was left of their teeth if I gave them the chance. Dallas lowered his voice, so only the four of us could hear it. “Are we going with speed or strength?”
    He was dying for me to say speed. Last month Ryker had paired him against Xavier, and the fight got called with X’s paw on Dallas’ throat. X hadn’t shut up about it all month. Both wolves were raw, bloody, and barely breathing when they were thrown back in the pen, chained so healing properly was a luxury. I wouldn’t exactly call it a victory, but revenge would be so sweet.
    I whacked Dallas, my paw still sore from last night’s scuffle for food. Ryker had thrown chickens into the pen and the chance at actual meat had all of us slobbering, baring our teeth at each other, brother or not. The spilled kibble still littered the ground below our feet, dirty as we were. Ryker was treating us like livestock, planning to slaughter us in a different manner.
    “Doesn’t fucking matter what you do.” Xavier, no it was Major, called out from the other side of the pen. Xavier was too chicken shit to talk out of turn. “Every single one of us can