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He lifted his gaze to the dilapidated cabin in front of his truck. There wasn’t even a yard. It was just overgrown brush that said nature had taken this property back years ago.
1010 Winding Creek Way. Did that suggest there was a creek? He pushed open his door and stepped out of his truck. He’d figured the motorcycle might have some trouble getting up here. He’d called the realtor this morning, and she’d basically told him to just make any offer and it would be considered. This place had been abandoned for years. Half the damn roof on the small cabin was caved in, and he started mentally calculating how much the repairs and cleanup on this place would be.
The cabin might honestly be a complete teardown, and then he would have to start from scratch. He had savings, but it wouldn’t cover a new home build.
A vision flashed against his mind and shot blinding pain through his skull.
…walking through the woods…
…looking behind him…
…his pawprints in the mud…
Jerkily, Gunner stumbled toward the tree line. This was the part he hated. He’d been enjoying a peaceful moment where he could fantasize over life feeling normal someday, and the bear had taken his body.
He slapped his head hard a few times, but his legs kept pushing forward and a long snarl filled his chest.
Fuck, he wished he was normal. Wished he was human.
The woods were thick and overgrown. He stumbled and tripped past brambles and briars until he could hear water.
True to the street name, a creek rushed down the slight slope of the terrain.
Only now, at the bank, did the bear stop and rip him down to his knees in the mud.
Look.
Gunner pitched forward onto his hands and knees, his fingertips in the water. His reflection looked back at him, but he wasn’t a man. He was the bear. When he looked down at his hands, they weren’t hands at all anymore. They were enormous paws with six-inch black claws as sharp as daggers.
He’d Changed?
Shit. He hadn’t even realized.
He huffed a breath and backed away from the water, tried to adjust to walking on all fours.
Angry at having his body stolen, he forced a Change back. It was slow and painful, but it was what he deserved.
When he came to, his head was pounding.
Gunner rolled to his back and stared up at the full tree branches above. A raven flew across the sky, and then another, both cawing loudly.
His body ached. He frowned as he took in the sky. The sun was in a completely different position than when he’d come out here.
He sat up with a gasp. How long had he been here?
He only remembered a few minutes, but the aching in his body said he’d been a bear for a while.
“Fuck,” he murmured as he pushed himself upward. He stormed back through brush that had been cleared. It smelled like his bear here, and the woods were familiar, as if he’d already memorized it.
“Dammit! Why can’t you just let me feel normal?” he yelled, his voice echoing through the forest.
By the time he got back to his truck and turned it on, the clock said he’d been here for four hours. He huffed a humorless laugh, hating himself. This happened way too much.
Lucas should’ve just put him down when he had the chance.
Gunner rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Everything had gotten so messed up with the Warlanders, and he knew it was on him. Everything was on him and his fucked-up animal.
They had almost…almost…felt like friends there for a little while.
