Page 29 of Marked By the Possessive Polar Bear
Get your head in the game, girl, I remind myself.This is life or death.
And it is. We’re surrounded by thirteen killer shifters who want to settle a score.
We’re outnumbered by double digits, but we have a secret weapon.
Adrian and I are fighting for each other. Our bears will be fighting for their mate.
And a bear fighting for their fated mate willneverbe outmatched.
CHAPTER NINE
Adrian
I’mfuriousthat these wolf shifters are here threatening my mate. I want to skin each one of them alive. My blood is boiling. I’m squeezing my fists so hard my fingernails are digging into my hands and drawing blood. I want them alldeadfor coming here. For looking at my girl. For daring to be in the presence of my goddess.
And as mad as I am, my rabid bear is even more pissed off.
He’s raging inside, snarling and gnashing his teeth as he paces around, desperate to get out and unleash some carnage on these wolves.
“Last chance, Mace,” I hiss as I stare their leader down. “Leave. Now.”
He laughs at me. Fucking laughs.
I grit my teeth as I stare all thirteen of them down.
Even if they leave now, it won’t be over. I’ll have to worry about them hurting Victoria whenever I’m not around. I’ll neversleep soundly again. My mind will be filled with worry for the rest of my days.
This has to end here. It has to end now.
“Alright,” I say as I let my enraged polar bear come bursting out. “Have it your way.”
My skin tightens as my muscles expand. My teeth extend, my fingertips split in two as long black claws shred their way out. It hurts, but it’s a sweet kind of pain. And it only lasts a split second.
The three Wolfhounds closest to me step back as my polar bear explodes out with a savage roar.
Kill them, I say, urging him on.Kill them all to protect her.
I don’t need to ask him twice. Wild, untamed fury surges through his veins as he charges forward with a snarl.
He leaps onto the closest man and tears his jugular out before he has time to phase.
Someone gasps. Another one curses. My polar bear tosses his head back, mouth stained red with blood, and roars in a bloodthirsty rage.
Men start popping into wolves all around us. I smell Victoria’s grizzly bear and turn back to see her charging into the fight. I hate that my mate is in this position because of me, but that vicious bear looks like it can hold its own no problem.
I take out another wolf with a single swipe, slamming him into the pavement. Blood sprays. Another wolf lunges at Victoria—I charge, intercepting him mid-air, and slam him to the ground so hard his ribs crack under my paws.
They keep coming. We keep fighting. But they’re fast. Vicious. And there are a lot of them.
Vic’s bear crashes into a wolf and sends him somersaulting backward into a motorcycle, then she sinks her teeth into another wolf’s hind leg. He howls in pain.
That’s all I see before my bear is swarmed with wolves. They’re all over me, biting my back and legs and scratching my face.
In all my life, I’ve never seen my polar bear unleashed. I’ve never seen him fight with reckless abandon. With such rage.
These wolves don’t stand a chance. I rip through them like a chainsaw through butter, sending them flying and bloody and limping away. Their whimpers and howls fill the air as I go through two or three at a time.
I keep an eye on Victoria, but she’s tough as nails. Her bear grew up with two older brothers and god, it shows. I fall a little deeper in love when I see her bite the back of a large gray wolf and toss him into the light pole so hard it bends.
