Page 55 of Gunnar

I charge into the kitchen, smashing the door back.

A deer carcass lies sprawled across the middle of the kitchen table, ribs cracked open, dark meat exposed. Blood has pooled on the wood and is spilling all over the floor.

Orson stands beside it. There’s a cleaver in his hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” I roar.

Orson turns like he has all the time in the world, a grin spreading across his face.

“Relax,” he says. “I’m just showing your mate what living with bears is really like.”

My jaw tightens.

“You motherfucker.”

“We do not live like this,” I say, already moving toward him. “When has it ever been okay to butcher animals on the kitchen table?”

Orson shrugs. “Good a place as any.”

“No, it isn’t.”

I close the distance between us. “We are not animals.”

My fists clench. My beast pushes forward, teeth aching as my fangs press against my gums.

Orson’s grin slips. He lifts his hands. “Hey. Easy. Guess I got a little carried away⁠—”

“Like hell you did.” I step in close. “You’re trying to scare her off.”

I draw my fist back⁠—

The doorknob behind me turns.

My head snaps around.

“Don’t come in⁠—”

Too late.

I just have time to drop my fist, before the kitchen door opens and Alexandria steps inside.

She stops just past the doorway. Her eyes take in the whole room.

The deer carcass spread across the table.

The dripping blood.

Orson standing beside it with a gigantic knife in his hand.

Me standing there ready to break my brother’s jaw.

“Hey,” I say quickly. “I’m sorry about this.”

She doesn’t answer. Just stands there, looking.

The seconds stretch out.

Then she gives a small nod, like she’s filing it away.