“Hellooo,” Matt drawled, waving his hand in front of Easton’s face.
Red, boiling rage took his middle, and he snapped his teeth hard at Matt’s hand. Matt flinched back and cursed. “I’m not challenging,” he said, hands raised in surrender as he stepped away, never giving him his back.
“Beaston!” Power cracked in Creed’s voice as he yelled from under the skyline where he was securing new cables. “Don’t you fucking do it today. Damon finally lifted our numbers. He’s trusting us more. Don’t ruin this shift for us.”
Easton’s bear squirmed inside of him, burning him from the middle out in desperation to escape. He wasn’t even mad at Matt. The memories made it so he couldn’t help himself. Fighting made them go away.
With a snarl, he turned and skidded over the ledge of the landing. Below, there was a steep mountainside cluttered with felled lumber the Boarlanders had cut down for the Gray Back Crew to strip and load for shipment to Saratoga. The terrain was steep and uneven, and one wrong misstep meant a lumber avalanche that would go careening down the hillside, picking up steam and demolishing anything in its path. He loved this job. There was always an edge of danger in everything he did. Here, he could focus better than anyplace else on earth. Which was pathetic since he still fought the other Gray Backs all the fucking time. Irritation bubbled inside of him as he headed to where Jason was standing on a stack of logs and writing numbers on his clipboard. Clad in a yellow hardhat like his own, Jason was easy to spot.
“Hey, you okay?” Jason asked.
“I’m fine.”
His dark eyebrows shot up as he shook his head and went back to scribbling on the clipboard. “Lay off my hide today, will you? I’m still sore from our row yesterday.”
“Sorry,” Easton muttered as he climbed onto the pile next to his friend. And he really was. He liked the Gray Backs more than any other people in the world, but that hadn’t stopped his need to fight with them.
“Creed will kill me soon,” Easton said, dragging his gaze to where his alpha was climbing into the machinery under the skyline.
“He won’t.”
“He will.”
“Easton,” Jason said, slapping the clipboard against his thigh. “Anyone messes with you, they’ll have to claw their way over my cold and lifeless body to do it.” Jason inhaled slowly and leveled him a look. “Breathe.”
Easton drew a slow, deep breath and felt the fire inside of him cool by a fraction.
“There you go. Now think about it. Creed has put a lot of time into rehabbing you. He didn’t kill you when you Turned Willa, did he?”
Easton shook his head, still uncertain about his future.
“And now Creed would have to answer to the girls if he put you down. Willa would filet him and suck on his marrow, Gia would boot him out of their trailer, and Georgia would shoot his ass. Nobody’s giving up on you, so you don’t give up on you either. Okay?”
The flutter of wings in the tree line distracted him.
“Easton,” Jason murmured, gripping his shoulder. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Easton said with a jerky nod.
“Good. Now make it today without bleeding us, and me and you will go into town later and grab a beer.”
“Creed won’t agree to that.”
“He will if it keeps us on track with our numbers today.” Jason jumped over a pile of beetle-infested, dead lodgepole pines and made his way up toward the processor. “Chest up, eyes ahead, and focus, Beaston. No bleeding today, and I’ll buy.”
Beaston. He couldn’t decide if he liked that nickname or not. It certainly fit his inner monster, but it was also a stark reminder that he was different. More abrasive, more combative, less in control.
With a sigh, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the bent paperclip his raven had gifted him all those years ago. It hadn’t been Matt’s fault for dredging up memories. It was his own for tucking this trinket in his pocket this morning.
His dad had scoffed at Mom for thinking she had the sight, but he’d been a fool to shrug off things he didn’t understand. Mom was special and could see things no one else could. Easton hadn’t understood until he got older, but she’d gifted him with the ability to see things in the beyond, too. He’d seen the ghost of Jason’s first mate when the others hadn’t been able to.
Easton lifted his gaze from the paperclip in his hands to the raven in the tree across the clearing.
And now he could see his ghost raven.
Dad had been wrong about a lot of things.
Chapter Four
Aviana sat stunned on the branch, trapped in Easton’s gaze.