Gray Back Bad Bear(10)

Matt closed his eyes and let the animal have his body. A snarling, ravaging bear burst from him as his skin burned from the ripping Change. Easton, the man, might be crazy, but he was no match for a bear like Matt’s. Matt’s animal had been forged from agony, taunted and tortured by IESA until the fear switch had been flipped off.

Matt’s bear was a monster, and Easton was about to get some new scars.

He shook off the last of his ripped clothes as Eason charged down the hillside toward him. Matt caught the full force of him in the chest and latched onto his neck, sinking his long canines into his scruff until he tasted warm iron.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Creed yelled from the ridge above. “Again?”

Hell yeah, again. He and Beaston hadn’t managed to establish who was more dominant yet. Second in the crew should’ve been worked out long before now, but for whatever reason, they were locked in this constant battle.

Matt’s footing slipped on the piles of felled lumber as he and Easton bit and clawed each other until their fur was matted with crimson. Stupid mother fucker didn’t know when he was beat, and now part of his ear was torn and hanging off. This right here was why their bears couldn’t figure out who was second to Creed. Beaston would fight to the death if Matt allowed their dominance battles to go on too long. He’d fight back until he was unconscious and bleeding out, and then wake up and be ready to redo the fight again the next day as though he hadn’t lost.

Not that Matt was complaining. He loved this shit.

Matt raked a claw down Easton’s back, but roared in pain when the other grizzly sank his teeth into his leg. Pulling, ripping, snarling, Easton pushed them both off balance with his powerful hind legs, and they fell onto a pile of loose lumber. Aw, hell.

Logs slipped and rolled alongside of them as they fought, locked up. Above them, Jason and Clinton were yelling something Matt couldn’t understand. Pain blasted through him as a log landed on top of him and bounced down the mountainside. They were picking up speed, but Easton didn’t seem interested in saving his own ass. He was still focused on maiming Matt. Attention torn between defending himself and making sure he and Easton survived the lumber avalanche, Matt twisted out of the way of another falling log, but got clocked on the neck by the next. On and on they slid, hitting tree stumps and brush, faster and faster. Pain, burning, agony, the snap snap of breaking bones. Fuckin’ Beaston.

Matt swung around in time to see the lone standing pine at the bottom of the hill, but it was too late to maneuver away. Using all his strength, he kicked Easton clear and slammed into the trunk. His vision crumpled inward, and sparks shot around the edges as he curled in on himself to ease the pain.

When he opened his eyes, Creed was barreling down on them, massive grizzly body black as pitch and demon eyes to match. Dammit all, this was going to hurt.

Matt winced as Creed reached him, but his alpha leapt over his crumpled body and slammed into Easton, who was charging again. The snarling battle roars echoed off the trees, but Creed had this one. He hadn’t won alpha from being a pussy. That bear could brawl. Matt would’ve huffed a bear laugh if he didn’t feel like his bones had been ground to dust. Jason and Clinton were on him now, but were they concerned for the pain he was in? No. They were laughing. And pointing. And now Jason was wheezing and clutching his knees because he found this all so goddamned funny. If Matt wasn’t pretty sure his front leg was broken, he would have given them both a bear claw slap, but right now, his paw in question was bent at an odd angle and he felt like he’d taken a swan dive into a bathtub of hunting knives.

Creed was human again. His big dick he was always bragging about swung around as he jammed a finger at Jason and Clinton and raged. “This shit right here is why we don’t hold a candle to the Ashe Crew’s numbers! No wonder Damon Daye doesn’t challenge us anymore. He expects nothing from us because all we do is fail him. Are you proud of that? Are you proud of sucking?”

“Kind of,” Clinton said, his gray eyes dancing.

Creed reared back as if he’d been slapped. “Matt, Change back.” The hard tone cracked with power and forced his immediate transformation. Alpha’s orders could be brutal sometimes.

The roar of pain in Matt’s throat turned into a scream as he shrank back into his human skin.

Creed grabbed Clinton by the back of the neck and shoved him toward Matt. “You think it’s so fuckin’ funny? You set his bones back.”

“Are you serious?” Clinton bellowed as their alpha stomped back up the lumber littered hillside.

The dark-haired alpha shot him a glare over his shoulder. “As a fuckin’ snake bite.”