by T. S. Joyce
“No, brother,” Bron said, lifting his lightened gaze. “I don’t think about Samantha anymore. Haven’t in years. I’ve let her go. Best you do the same.” With that, he spun and strode from the mill. “Don’t forget to lock up,” he ordered over his shoulder as he disappeared around the truck.
Like Trent needed to be reminded. Dillon was the one who always forgot to lock up, not him.
The sun was setting over the Seven Devils Mountains of Hells Canyon, and Trent stepped out to admire the last rays of light through the pines and firs. If Reese was really out with Pete, maybe she was moving on. A little ember burned in his gut just thinking about them together, but he wasn’t ready to settle down. Not until he was sure he wouldn’t be shredded like Bron had been. She knew better than to try and make him jealous. He wasn’t the type, so maybe she really was interested in finding a mate besides him. A part of him was proud of her for finally believing in her worth enough to move on. He loved her, but was it enough for them to last forever? After watching his parents fall apart, and Bron work so hard with Muriel to fail epically, he wasn’t sure.
He’d have to call Reese tonight and give her the okay to move on. She would be worried about him if he didn’t acknowledge the valley he’d put between them. Reese was a good woman, who had held on longer than she ought. The kindest thing for him to do would be to cut her loose. Would it be easy? Hell no. He cared about her deeply. But it was fair, and Dad used to say the hardest path in life was usually the right one. It was the only good advice that old badger ever gave, and dammit, he was tired of being on the wrong path.
He pulled down the first garage door and locked it, then repeated with the other two as his mind swirled around what he would say to Reese on the phone. Stepping through the front door to gather his satchel from the office, he heard a noise, a tiny scraping sound, and froze. Thirty seconds of silence later, he shook his head and rubbed his hand over the hackled fine hairs on the back of his neck. After what happened to Dad, his paranoia had never fully settled.
When he returned to the front, he frowned at the closed door. He could’ve sworn he left it open. The handle jiggled from the other side.
“Bron?” he asked as alarms went off in his head.
No answer.
The smell of gasoline hit the sensitive lining of his nose and his eyes flew wide. “Bron?” Rushing for the door, he pulled at the handle but it was stuck fast.
His ears perked up at a tiny flick of noise—the rough surface of a match striking the side of a box.
Cursing, he threw his shoulder against the metal front door. The window was too small for him to ever get his shoulders through. The garage doors were locked from the outside, but he tried them next.
The air grew hotter and thicker and flames licked the walls now. He searched frantically for a way out, but they’d built this place to keep thieving rival bears away from the expensive lumber. The walls were reinforced with steel beams.
Smoke billowed through the open space as flames blazed through piles of sawdust and onto the dry two-by-fours, igniting the mill into an inferno. He tried in vain to put out the fire with an old blanket they used to keep wood dry as he coughed and hacked, but it had already spread too far.
Panicked, he gave in to the bellowing beast inside of him. Seconds felt like minutes as his adrenaline fueled the change. The pain of transition was nothing compared to the heat that lapped at his fur as he charged and rammed the thick doors repeatedly, bending them with every pass.
He would kill whoever locked him in here like this.
He would kill everything.
CALL OF THE BEAR
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About the Author
T. S. Joyce
T.S. Joyce is devoted to bringing hot shifter romances to readers. Hungry alpha males are her calling card, and the wilder the men, the more she'll make them pour their hearts out. Experienced at handling an alpha male of her own, she lives in a tiny town, outside of a tiny city, and devotes her life to writing big stories. Foodie, bear whisperer, ninja, thief of tiny bottles of awesome smelling hotel shampoo, nap connoisseur, movie fanatic, and zombie slayer, and most of this bio is true.
Bear Shifters? Check
Smoldering Alpha Hotness? Double Check
Sexy Scenes? Fasten up your girdles, ladies and gents, it's gonna to be a wild ride.
For more information about T. S. Joyce and her work, visit her website here.
Contents
Other Books in this Series
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Thank You
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