Dark Wolf (Shadow Pack Book 1) by Katt Grimm

Author:Katt Grimm [Grimm, Katt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance
Publisher: Hartwood Publishing
Published: 2016-08-31T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The grizzly ran uphill toward the clearing where he heard the last of his targets scrounging around. Frank stopped to sniff the air and take stock of his surroundings. He had a couple of wounds, but nothing a night’s sleep wouldn’t cure. He quickly resumed his way up the mountainside, smelling only one man nearby. The man had the foul stench that always floated around the truly evil beings of the world,, but Frank thought ruefully, it’s sad that the stupid don’t put out a scent because this guy would have it in spades, going in snowshoes up the side of a mountain after a grizzly bear that took out several of his men. Idiot.

He charged nimbly through the trees, taking every precaution to be quiet. The forest was deadly still as he circled around behind his prey. The florid-faced man was sitting on a boulder, winded from his uphill sprint, his rifle unattended in his lap. He was breathing like a bellows and not bothering to look about at his surroundings.

Frank took a deep breath and concentrated. The kind of Change he was about to do took a lot of effort, but he wanted to send the strongest message possible to the man’s boss. A blue nimbus began to alight around his bear body, and he slowly began to change shape. Where the grizzly had stood off to the side hidden in the trees, there now stood the most terrible form of a were-bear, a true mixing of man and bear. Frank now looked like a creature from the depths of hell with a man’s form covered in a bear’s brown pelt, and instead of a human head, a huge grizzly head topped off his body. He’d looked at himself in the mirror a few times when he had done this and scared the hell out of himself. The teeth alone were absolutely terrifying. He used this form rarely for were-Halloween parties and for scaring the crap out of teenagers that used to try to hold outdoor drinking parties in remote corners of his property.

The man was slowly recovering his breath in the bright sunlight of the glade. Frank sauntered up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned and gaped at him in abject terror, the pale blue eyes tearing up immediately. Frank suddenly smelled the distinct tang of urine in the air, and the man’s rifle clattered to the ground. The hardened mercenary started to blubber and tried to scramble away backward, but the rock blocked him. The man cowered on the ground, looking up at a monster, crying like a baby.

Frank gave him the best bear grin he could manage. “Pardon me, old fellow, you wouldn’t happen to have any Grey Poupon, would you? I love a spoonful spread over fresh human flesh.” His voice in this form was unbelievably deep and rasping, frightening enough to turn hair white and make eyes bulge. Frank leaned down to breathe into the man’s face and reached out one razor-tipped hand to run a claw under the scraggly excuse for a goatee.

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