Home > Feral Shifter Unstoppable

Feral Shifter Unstoppable
Author: Olivia T. Turner

 


CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Noah

 

 

The sound of happiness enrages my bear.

It’s the clanking metal that gets his attention, but it’s the happy voices that makes my Kodiak charge toward the sound.

He lets out a nasty snarl as he sprints through the forest, his massive paws slamming into the ground. Tree branches explode off their trunks as his big shoulders collide into them. I can feel the hate and anger coursing through our veins. It feels like a drug. He’s high on hate. He’s tripping on anger.

He despises everything, but happiness and laughing are at the top of his hate list. These nice people don’t know what’s coming for them.

Relax, I try to tell him as he snaps a large branch under his paw. These people haven’t done anything to us.

He growls as he picks up the pace, his violent temper blazing like a wildfire.

That’s enough! I scream as I try to pull him in.

He shakes me off easily. I can’t force him to do anything anymore. He’s too strong. He’s too out of control.

It wasn’t always like this. Years ago, we communicated. We actually got along.

But then our mate never came and things went south. He started ignoring me. Shaking off my commands. Then, the hate started. And it has only grown from there.

Dude, chill! I grab his essence and yank him down with all of my might while I force myself up. He shakes me off easily. It doesn’t even slow down his stride.

I’m hopeless in here. It’s been weeks since he’s let me out. All I can do is watch as he inflicts his horror on one town after another. Last week, it was Abottsville, Montana. We got chased out by a posse of men with rifles and shotguns.

I don’t even know where we are now. He escaped into the mountains and we’ve been wandering around the wilderness ever since.

The group up ahead laughs and my vicious bear sprints forward with his heart pounding.

I spot them in the distance and my stomach sinks.

They’re a group of mountain climbers out in nature for a fun day. Two of them are already high up the rocky cliff and the other four are at the base, strapping on their gear while they laugh and joke around.

The sound of laughter and the sight of smiles stokes the fury within my bear. I can feel the intense anger coursing through his body.

He’s full-on feral. It’s the only explanation.

Our mate hasn’t come into our lives and it’s broken him. He’s turned rotten to the core. He’s taken his anger and frustration out on the universe and I can’t do a thing to stop him.

The shifter community polices this kind of thing. They have para-military forces to deal with bears like mine. A couple of bullets in the head is usually what it takes to end a violent feral spree.

I wouldn’t be surprised if there was one of these units hunting down my savage Kodiak right now. After the mess he caused in Abottsville, we’re certainly on the radar.

The sound of straps being pulled through buckles rings through our ears as the mountain climbers suit up. The smell of tuna sandwiches from their cooler hits our nose.

A pounding rage fills our ears as he runs closer. He’s all tight and on edge, ready for violence, ready to terrorize. He’s looking for a fight. He’s looking for blood. For vengeance.

These people didn’t do anything! I scream as I desperately try to get a hold of him to pull in.

He shakes me off with a growl.

His paws slow to a bloodthirsty prowl. He lowers his head as he watches the mountain climbers with a low snarl. I can feel the territorialness swirling through our bodies. He thinks they’re trespassing on his territory. He thinks the whole damn mountain range is his. He thinks the whole world is his.

You need to stop! I scream at him. Leave them alone!

He continues forward.

One of the guys turns and spots us coming out of the woods. His eyes widen before he opens his mouth and screams. “Bear!!!”

They all gasp when they see my livid Kodiak snarling with his black lip curled over his long sharp teeth.

He lurches up onto his back legs and lets out a bloodthirsty roar.

The four climbers at the base drop whatever their holding and start racing up the cliff, climbing without any ropes tethering them to safety. There are three guys and one girl. I don’t know about the other climbers that are already high up. My bear doesn’t pay them any mind as he lunges forward with his blood boiling.

“Holy shit!” one of the guys says as he watches while clinging to the rocks about fifteen feet up.

The guy in the blue jacket pulls out his phone to record my bear, but it fumbles in his hands and drops twenty feet down to the ground.

My bear growls as he walks over and sniffs it. The faintest of smells enters our lungs, burning through us like lava. My bear shakes the tantalizing smell out of his head and steps forward, crushing the phone under his massive paw.

“My phone,” the guy moans. “I just got it last month.”

My Kodiak looks up and snarls at the frightened people, daring them to come down.

“Who cares about your phone!” the girl with the brown ponytail says as she clings to the rock and squeezes her eyes shut. “That’s a real fucking bear!”

“Just hang tight,” the guy in the red coat says. “He’ll lose interest and keep moving soon enough.”

He doesn’t know my bear. He’s a nasty prick and I wouldn’t be surprised if he lingers here all day to make these nice people pay for daring to step foot on his mountain.

He lets out another fuming roar before wandering over to their bags to smell them. I can smell the metal of a shotgun, a granola bar, car keys…

My nose tingles. That scent again… It’s like fire burning down our throat. It sends shivers racing down our spine.

My Kodiak swats at the cooler and sends it flying off the rocky edge. It tumbles down to the ground and spills open. Tuna sandwiches, carrot sticks, and juice boxes roll out.

Take their sandwiches and go, I plead.

I know he wants to eat something and I’d rather these nice people lose their lunch than lose a limb.

He huffs out an infuriated breath and then looks up at the four climbers closest to us.

No! I shout as he stands on his hind legs and tests the cliff with his front paws. I don’t think he can climb a cliff, but I wouldn’t put it past my rabid bear to try.

A faint rumbling sound, like old engines being pushed to their max, comes humming out from somewhere behind us in the forest.

My bear turns around with a snarl as the sound gets louder. It turns to an obnoxious roaring as the people approach. It sounds like dirt bikes.

No, I gasp as they come this way.

These people on the cliff were lucky enough to get out of my bear’s way, but their approaching friends might not be so fortunate. My Kodiak can run insanely fast when he’s angry and the piercing sound of those engines is making him livid.

He lunges forward and crashes through the trees with a growl on his way to intercept them.

Nausea hits me when I feel the rage and fury whipping through him like a hurricane. He’s a nasty beast. Totally out of control. I’m starting to realize there’s no hope for us. Not anymore.

If I can figure out a way to end his monstrous reign of terror, I will. But he’ll have to let me out to do that, and I don’t see that happening any time soon.

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