Legend of Slaughter Mountain by T. S. Joyce EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: T. S. Joyce
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Slaughter hunted him.
Slowly, silently, he stepped out from behind one tree to coast to the next.
Owen was headed up the sharp incline toward Slaughter’s cabin, but he
was leaving the back of his neck exposed too much.
He’s forgotten his training, the half-dead monster inside of him rumbled.
Slaughter stifled the growl that clawed its way up the back of his throat.
It was summertime in Alaska, which meant cool nights, warm days, and
green shoots of foliage popping up everywhere. It stifled the sound of his
movement even more.
He followed Owen up and up, and still, he didn’t turn his head, didn’t
listen for the sounds, didn’t sense a damn thing. Slaughter’s anger grew with
every step his Creation made it deeper into his territory.
Waste, the monster said.
Slaughter shook his head slightly and reached for the knife in the back of
his belt. He pulled it silently and crouched behind a mass of greenery.
He broke the rules. Punish him.
Slaughter pulled his lips back from his teeth and closed his eyes tightly,
then opened them, stood, and slung the knife at Owen’s back with all his
force. He would survive it. Probably.
Owen turned at the sound of the knife cutting through the air and caught
the blade in his shoulder, but he was smiling. That’s when Slaughter saw it—
Owen’s blade was coming right for him. Slaughter flinched back and the
blade sliced deep across his ribs.
Owen’s bi-colored gold and light brown eyes filled with intensity as
Slaughter charged up the incline toward him. Oh, Slaughter knew how fast he
was, and exactly how dangerous he was, but Owen hadn’t been born to this
life soft. Slaughter had trained him to be the bear.
The grizzly ripped out of Slaughter as he bore down on his Creation, and
Owen’s scarred brown bear exploded from him just as Slaughter reached
him. With a roar, Slaughter attacked. One, two, three, four…He ripped at his
neck, and nodded internally when Owen countered just as he’d been taught.
Five, six, seven…Owen got his jaws latched onto Slaughter’s shoulder deep
enough to get a powerful shake in before Slaughter shrugged him off and
spun on him. Thirty-one, thirty-two…. Slaughter always kept count in his
head during battle. It was as natural as breathing. Who could last the longest
against him? Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five…
Owen made a mistake—left his weak side open a little too much.
Slaughter bit him savagely and used the power of his weight to sling Owen
into a tree. Fifty-seven…
Slaughter’s jaws were on his throat before he recovered, and Owen went
still.
Sixty.
One minute.
One full minute.
Only Biergon the Dead had ever lasted that long against him before.
Good.
Slaughter released his neck and sauntered up the hill toward his cabin.
Owen would follow. He was his King, after all.
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