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Chapter 1
Emmett
The roar of a dozen dirt bike engines filled the valley, the ground vibrating beneath my feet. My heart pounded against my ribs, keeping time with the revving motors.
I gripped the handlebars, knuckles white, and inhaled the mingling scents of gasoline and freshly churned dirt. The adrenaline coursing through my veins sharpened my senses, making every detail of the racecourse stand out in vivid clarity.
“Ready to eat my dust, Furbane?” called Ryderfrom the bike beside me. His dark eyes glinted with arrogance beneath his motocross goggles.
Ryder Thornbrook was my cousin and my aunt Amalthea’s son. He’d enlisted in the military and left Silverpaw Hollow several years ago, but he’d returned yesterday to take part in today’s race.
Like me, he thrived on adventure, but Ryder had a dark past that no one seemed willing to discuss, least of all Aunt Amalthea.
I chuckled, flexing my fingers around the grips. “Bring it on, Thornbrook. We both know I've got these trails memorized like the back of my hand.”
Like my brothers, I was part of the Guardians MC. To outsiders, we were adrenaline junkies. The club wasn't just about the thrill of riding, though that was a huge part of it. Underneath it all, however, we were the unofficial sentinels of our town, always ready to step in when someone needed a hand. We used the MC to keep an eye on the town without drawing too much attention.
The crowd cheered as we revved our engines, the anticipation building like a physical force. I focused on the trail ahead, visualizing every twist and turn, every jump and obstacle. This was what I lived for—the chance to push myself to the limit and come out on top.
And it was true. Every rock and rut on this course was etched into my memory. I must have raced here a thousand times, the wooded mountains and dusty trails as familiar as my backyard.
But today, it was about the thrill, too. “In your dreams, Thornbrook. I was born to ride these trails.”
Ryder smirked, revving his engine obnoxiously. “Less talking, more racing, Furbane. Let's see what you've got.”
The crowd cheered as the race organizer raised a checkered flag overhead. My focus narrowed until everything else faded—the noise, the people, all of it.
The flag dropped, and we tore off in a blur. It was me, my bike, and the earth flying beneath my tires. Ryder pulled ahead briefly, and I let him lead. No point wasting energy battling him for the holeshot. I'd make my move soon enough.
We whipped around the first corner, my knee scraping the hard-packed dirt as I leaned into the turn. The bike shuddered and slid beneath me, every bump and skid vibrating through the handlebars into my core.
The power of the machine thrummed through my body, merging with the primal energy of my bear. Out here, racing on the edge of control, I was alive in a way nothing else could match.
I lived for this–the knife-edge thrill of speed, the exhilarating dance with danger. Being a bear shifter gave me reflexes and strength far beyond any human. Out here, I could finally cut loose.
We tore through the course, jockeying for position, neither giving an inch. The roar of the engines mingled with the pounding of my heart as I pushed myself harder, faster, determined to come out on top.
Every sense was heightened, every nerve singing with the rush of the ride. Half a lap in, I seized my opening. As Ryder tried to block me, I feinted right and blasted past him on the inside, claiming the lead.
“Nice try, Thornbrook!” I called out, my voice lost to the wind. I twisted the throttle, putting distance between us.
The finish line waited ahead, victory within my grasp. Until a new scent hit my nose, stopping me in my tracks–smoke. Not any smoke. This had the acrid tang of wildfire.
I cursed under my breath, skidding to a halt in a spray of gravel. I had a bad feeling I knew exactly where that fire was. My youngest brother Axel had been on edge lately about the east trails, saying the area gave him the creeps. He always did have freaky intuition.
With a frustrated growl, I pulled off the track and killed the engine, much to the crowd's surprise. Ryders shot past me, his grin of triumph fading to confusion as he realized I was no longer on his tail. But I barely noticed.
Ryder and the others knew my position in the town and that I could be called away any second.
Unfortunately for me, it was right as I was about to win the race today, but I didn’t care. My priority was clear–finding the source of that smoke and protecting my home.
I sprinted for the tree line, ensuring no one saw me slip into the woods. The second I was out of sight, I stripped off my clothes, stashing them in one of the outposts created specifically for this purpose and camouflaged by the environment. Then I released my inner beast.
With a deep exhale, I let the wildness of my bear consume me, embracing the primal instincts that surged through my veins. Fur rippled across my skin, limbs cracked and reshaped, until I landed heavily on four clawed paws.
I shook out my thick brown coat, my bear form settling over me like a second skin. I was twelve when I first shifted, and it had been painful, but now it was seamless, a testament to years of practice and honing my abilities.
I took off running, the earth beneath my paws vibrating with each powerful stride as I charged uphill with supernaturally enhanced speed. The forest welcomed me with whispers of ancient secrets mingling with the rhythm of my pounding heart.
