Nox was definitely getting warmer. The chain that stretched across the creek was rusted and old, but the sign hanging from it looked new and had been painted in Torren’s handwriting. The winding dirt road continued on the other side of the rushing water, and as Nox eased his truck into the rapids, he realized there was some kind of paved road here, hidden by the waves. His tires only submerged about six inches, and then he coasted across the little channel smoothly.
His truck creaked and bounced up the washed-out road as he wound through the trees. There were evergreens and scraggly brush that had lost all their leaves, leaving this place looking half haunted, half like a fuckin’ Christmas card Mom used to send everyone in the trailer parks back home. She hadn’t even gotten mad at Nox and Dad with their tradition of drawing hidden dicks in the scenery pics like a perverted version of Where’s Waldo. Dad had called it Where’s Dildo. Mom was used to them misbehaving, and Dad used to say that everyone looked forward to the Fuller Family Christmas cards for the challenge of trying to find the hidden sausage and meatballs.
Another five minutes of driving, and Nox came to a stop at the entrance of a fancy-as-fuck black asphalt circle drive. There was a scorch mark right in front of his tires that stretched through the woods as far as he could see. He would bet his favorite nut hair that the dragon had eaten ashes in a perfect circle around this place because monsters couldn’t curb their instincts to lay claim to territory.
The house in the center of the clearing was an utter shock. This was no trailer park. Vyr was holed up in a gol-dern mansion. God, what a prick. Highfalutin fire breather, just like his dad. Of course he wasn’t hiding in a trailer. Snob.
The house was two stories, complete with balconies and candles in each window. In the back, there was a massive pond and was that…was that a swan? It was too cold for swans. Nox was definitely going to eat Vyr’s pet. Swans probably tasted like chicken.
Nox scanned the yard, but everything was still. Too still. The hair rising on the back of his neck, he inched forward slowly and parked just before he got to the sprawling portico. There were gargoyles carved into the corners. The urge to vandalize this place was overwhelming. All he needed was about two dozen cans of red spray paint, and he would get this place looking homey in no time. He would draw stupid cartoon dragons everywhere with big googly eyes and tiny sky-lizard dicks. God, he hated dragons. Torren had the worst taste in friends.
Nox pulled the Glock from his shoulder holster, checked that the clip was full, and replaced it with a metal-on-metal click. When he had his jacket settled over the weapon, he shoved the truck door open and got out, eyes scanning the clearing, all his senses open. The hair wouldn’t lower on the back of his neck, and alarms were ringing. There weren’t any sounds here. No little animals in the woods, no late season birds. Even the swan was sitting still in the water, staring at him like that feather-skank knew something he didn’t.
A soft sound prickled right on the edge of his senses, and he reacted on instinct, ducked to the side. Pain blasted through his left bicep, and he pulled his gun in one smooth motion. Gritting his teeth against the agony of the arrow sticking out of his arm, he jerked his attention to the direction the arrow was shot. Torren was reloading a crossbow on the roof. Fucker.
He lifted his weapon, aimed to not-kill, unlike that prick gorilla, and fired off two rounds. Torren yelled out, tumbled down the roof, and landed hard on the other side of the house.
“Fuck,” Nox muttered, yanking the arrow from his arm. Warmth trickled down his bicep. His jacket was going to hurt his range of motion, so he shrugged out of it as he tossed the arrow to the ground. “A fucking crossbow? You could’ve killed me!” he yelled, his booming voice echoing against the mountains.
“That was the point, asshole!” Torren yelled right before the telltale smattering of pops that signaled Torren was going silverback. Double shit.
In a rush, Nox struggled out of his holster. Torren charged around the corner of the house. Nox was in serious trouble because that enormous gorilla’s bright green eyes were full of rage and promised death. Shhhheeeyit!
Nox closed his eyes and let the beast grizzly rip out of him. Before the pain of the Change had even subsided, he was charging toward Torren, because there was no backing down. He knew this game. How many times had he fought Torren? How many times had he fought all the dominant males in Damon’s Mountains? He needed to if he wanted his animal to stay steady. This was just another fight, and at least Torren was limping on a front arm as he bolted toward Nox on his knuckles.
Neither slowed down, and the force with which they collided nearly knocked the wind out of Nox. Torren slammed a fist against his back just as Nox sank his teeth into the gorilla’s shoulder right above the collarbone. Nox was going to kill him this time, or die trying. Fucking Torren, always choosing that asshole dragon over everyone else. Over him! He clawed and ripped with his teeth, ignoring Torren’s fists. The gorilla opened up his massive jaws, exposing razor sharp canines just before he sank his teeth into the side of Nox’s neck. Who would bleed out first, hmm? That was the question. Nox bit down harder and ripped his head backward, shredding Torren’s shoulder.
“Stop.” The word had been spoken softly, but it had an awful effect on Nox.
A force he didn’t understand ripped him off Torren and slammed him to the ground. And from Torren’s collision with the earth, he must’ve felt it, too.
Nox scrabbled, raking his curved, six-inch claws through the manicured grass and deep into the dirt in an effort to get back to Torren and finish this. His focus was complete, and so was Torren’s since the silverback was dragging his body toward Nox, too.
Someone stepped between them casually. Fancy loafers, dress pants, a collared shirt, and a bloody arrow twirling between his fingers, Vyr looked down his nose at Nox like he was a bug.
“I said stop,” he said coolly, his eyes churning silver. The pupils there were elongated like a snake’s. Snake, snake, snake, Vyr was a fucking snake for pretending to be Nox’s alpha. Fight, Bear! Fight everything!
But that second order had frozen Nox into place like a statue in the fancy winter rose garden that surrounded the house. He could barely breathe, and every muscle was seizing in his effort to break Vyr’s spell on his beast.
Vyr knelt down between them, snake eyes never leaving Nox. “Change back,” he murmured.
Nox roared at the pain of his animal breaking into a million pieces. Stars dotted his vision as his bellow turned into a man’s scream. It hurt so bad. So bad. Nox curled in on himself and shook like a leaf in the fall, trying to wrap his head around pain like that and wishing it would subside, but Vyr was doing something awful to his insides. Nox was on fire. Every cell was screaming with the burn.
Torren was up and walking away like he didn’t hurt at all, but Nox was dying.
“Let me guess. My father sent you,” Vyr said in a low voice. “But why?”