Chapter 20 Adrian
ADRIAN
Itap my claws against the dashboard of Marcus’s truck, my eyes locked onto the Weston house in the distance.
Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.
“Can you please stop doing that?” Kieran hisses from behind me. “It’s driving me up the wall. I’m anxious enough as it is.”
“I can’t help it,” I reply, my voice tight. “I’m having fucking deja vú over here. Waiting while someone I love is taken by these people… It didn’t end up well last time.”
Marcus’s big hand comes down on my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.
“This is different, Adrian. Goldie’s small and cute as a button, but she’s fierce. Wily. She’ll take care of herself while she waits for us. She knows we’re coming.”
“She has to,” Kieran agrees. “She knows we don’t want to live without her.”
I blink fast, trying to dry my eyes. I’m a polar bear, for god’s sake, not some tamed pussycat.
“The guard shift is any minute,” Kieran says from behind me, his attention on his laptop’s screen. “They’ll be distracted and won’t know what to do when three huge bears come barreling in.”
He sounds almost gleeful, though I know he’s just as eager to have Goldie back safely as I am.
“Weston’s mine,” I growl, my hands curling into fists, claws poking into sensitive flesh. My brothers’ eyes are on me, neither speaking. “He had something to do with Sylvie’s death.” I slam my fist against my chest. “I feel it here.”
“Alright,” Marcus says calmly. “That prick is yours. But I’m taking the elder Westons down. They fucked with our families for too long.”
“I guess I’ll just maul anything with a gun aimed at us,” Kieran mutters from the backseat. Under any other circumstances, I’d laugh at the bitter note in his voice. But my bear is demanding only one thing, on an endless loop: save our mate.
“Who’s that?” I hear Kieran ask. My eyes cut to the driveway, where an older-model sedan crunches over the gravel.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Marcus grumbles.
“What?” I press, my patience thin.
“It’s Father Patrick. They called a goddamned priest.”
A loud roar breaks free from my chest.
“He’s trying to go through with the wedding!” The words come out nearly unrecognizable, my voice like gravel. “We need to get in there now!”
Marcus blows air out of his nose, his eyes going unfocused as he calculates the risks.
“Fine. But keep a tight leash on your bears, brothers. We don’t want any innocent casualties. Get our girl, get our revenge, get out.”
“Yes, sir,” Kieran drawls. “Let’s crack some skulls.”
The usually mild-mannered brown bear is nowhere to be found. In its place is a vengeful mate.
“Let’s go,” I snap as I open the passenger door.
I take off my T-shirt, then kick off my boots and jeans, my bear already clawing at my insides, eager to break out of my skin.
It only takes me a few seconds to shift, the wild beast taking control of my body and leaving only a shred of my humanity behind.
No innocents, I tell my bear.
I bet the Westons treat their servants like cattle—they don’t deserve to pay for their masters’ sins.
My bear harrumphs, impatiently waiting for our brothers to finish undressing and shifting as well. The bottoms of my paws itch to cover ground, eat up the distance between our mate and us.
Marcus, having completed his shift a moment before Kieran, rears back on his hind legs, letting loose a roaring battle cry that scares birds in the woods behind us. Kieran and I echo the call, and together we charge into enemy territory.
The first guard doesn’t have time to scream. I’m on him in a flash, bringing him down to the ground, and tearing out his throat. His blood tastes bitter as it coats my tongue, but still I savor it.
The second and third guards manage to raise their weapons, but my brothers knock them out of their hands before a shot could be fired off. They join their dead colleague on the ground.
Little by little, we conquer the Westons’ garishly decorated mansion, bypassing shrieking servants and eliminating armed guards. It doesn’t take us long to reach the great hall, where Goldie is standing before a priest reeking of fear.
Weston holds Goldie by the neck, his eyes wild, a gun trembling in his free hand.
“What the fuck is this?” he yells, looking between us like he can’t decide which bear is the biggest threat.
Newsflash, asshole—we all want you dead.
Goldie’s shoulders drop with relief, her eyes welling up with tears even as she smiles at us.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispers, bringing her bound hands to her chest.
A low growl vibrates in my throat at the sight of her being coerced into marriage by the piece of excrement by her side. Thomas Weston has wasted enough oxygen in this world. It’s time he gave back, time for nature to feed on his remains.
With that singular thought, I charge at Weston.
“Shit!” he hisses, his arm coming up to aim the weapon at my head.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Goldie shouts and slams her elbow into his side. Weston doubles over, wheezing, the gun clattering to the ground.
“May Jesus protect us,” the priest whispers as he pulls Goldie aside.
But all my attention is now on Weston. I slam into him, his breath leaving his lungs in a gush of air. His breath is nauseating to my sharp bear senses, but I ignore it, roaring in his face. The smell of fresh urine becomes overwhelming as Weston’s bladder gives out.
This is for Goldie. This is for Sylvie, I think as I bite down on his face. His cry is cut short on a gurgle, his death coming all too soon.
“Merciful Mother Mary.” The priest again.
“It’s okay, Father,” Goldie soothes him in her sweet voice, cutting through the red haze of violence and blood. “These are good bears. Only demons need to fear them.”
“Goldie!” someone yells from the other side of the room. I hear Kieran and Marcus’s answering snarls.
“Wait, guys!” Goldie exclaims, rushing over to them as fast as she can with her hands still bound. “That’s my mom and dad.”
I fight to keep calm and not think about how Goldie’s parents mistreated her, how they were willing to sell her out to this monster who’s now dead at my paws.
“Oh, Goldie, we’re so glad you’re safe,” Goldie’s mom says, embracing her daughter. “We tried to get here as fast as we could.”
“We’re so sorry,” Goldie’s dad murmurs. “We didn’t know… We were blind.”
I watch Marcus skirt around the trio, heading in the direction of the grand staircase. He’s searching for the senior Westons, just like he said he would.
“Goldie, why are there bears here? And, oh my god, is that Thomas? What happened to him?”
“My bears happened to him,” Goldie says proudly. It does wonders to soothe my bloodlust. “He was a terrible person. He killed people, killed Adrian’s sister, Sylvie. He deserved to die.”
I let out a mournful howl at the confirmation of what my bear already suspected. I don’t think any amount of revenge will fill the hole my sister left behind.
“That’s terrible,” Goldie’s mom breathes. “We should call the police.”
“No!” Goldie cuts in. “They’re in the Westons’ pockets. No one here knows about my bears. We should just all get out of here.”
“Are you sure, sweetie?” Goldie’s mom asks, wringing her hands together. “There are… dead bodies,” she finishes on a barely audible whisper. I can’t help snorting.
“Yes,” Goldie confirms decisively. “Take the priest and get him to safety. Maybe get him some counseling.”
Kieran cackles at her muttered words, the animalistic sound making our mate’s parents shudder.
“What about you?” her father inquires, still looking between my brother and me with skepticism.
“Me?” Goldie takes a deep breath, then beams at us. “I’m riding my bears out, leaving this cursed place in style.”