They say animals can sense catastrophic weather events just before they happen. It’s something about a big change that throws waves into the air, or spikes up instincts much more sensitive than humans’. Like an underlying rumble that rattles the soul and draws animals upright. It freezes them as they listen for hell to come.

And then the next instinct is survival—the next instinct is to run.

The hairs on the back of Karis’s neck had been standing on end for an entire day, ever since she and Ava had picked up Colt and Trigger from the Darby Precinct. There was something too quiet and too loud all at once in the air. It was the troubles singing their marching song, and they were coming straight for Two Claws Ranch. The storm had been building for years, and though she’d just come to find her mate here, she was right at the edge of the storm anyway. Her entire Clan was.

Karis felt it, but was powerless to stop whatever was coming for them. She knew it, and her inner polar bear knew it, but the best she could do was lock her legs against the storm and meet it head-on. Because that’s what this life was about, right? She’d fallen in love with Colton Dorset, and this was what she’d signed up for the second she let an outlaw slip a zip-tie ring onto her finger. That was her for-better-or-worse moment, and she knew down to her marrow, the for-worse part was coming before the better.

How could she tell?

From the raven in the tree.

She frowned out the window at the creature, too big to be a wild crow, and then the scratching started. Desperate scratching. The sound was small, and concentrated near the bottom of the front door. Genie. The second Karis opened the door, the little squirrel ran through her legs and bolted up the stairs that led to the loft like her tail was on fire. Genie wasn’t scared of much, but apparently crows topped the little critter’s list.

As Karis stepped onto the front porch, she couldn’t get over how big the crow was. It was closer to the size of a turkey. It sat stock-still on a low branch of a birch tree, face angled to the side, one large brown eye trained on her. It was as sleek as a torpedo, its talons digging into the branch it sat upon. Its feathers were so dark, they had a blue sheen to them. If it had been a wild raven, the scene it set would’ve been quite beautiful—black bird surrounded by snowy woods just on the edge of a clearing.

But this was no wild raven. This one was part of the Red Dead Mayhem Clan that had partnered with the Darby Clan of mountain lions to try to kill her and Turn Ava into a cougar. If she had her mate’s old revolver handy, she wouldn’t have hesitated to lift the barrel and blast that damned War-Bird into its next life. She hated them for the memories they’d given her of that awful night five tiny days ago. For the rest of her days, she would remember Ava lying pale on the floor of the barn, tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes, begging Karis to kill her because the cougar-mauling had hurt her so bad. Karis would remember those crows dive-bombing her body while she tried to protect Ava’s.

Kill it.

The bear rumbled a low growl up her throat. Usually Karis fought the bloodlust, but that crow had helped build the storm that came for Two Claws Clan. For her people.

Oooh, Red Dead Mayhem. She wanted the crow to be red and dead, and she wanted to be the mayhem.

Nonchalantly, Karis took a few test steps off the porch and into the snow.

The Crow turned its head the other way, still watching, but it stayed perched on the branch.

Red.

Dead.

Kill it.

Karis snarled up her lip and gave into the pain—let the bear shred her in one excruciating moment. The bear was a bomb. Her Change was instant, as her older brothers had taught her to do. Embrace the pain and push it. Make it hurt. The more it hurt, the faster it went. One second, and her massive white paws hit the snow at a sprint, long black claws digging into the earth for purchase. She was as fast as a hellhound in this body. She knew exactly what she could do because she’d pushed and tested her limits since she’d been Turned. What was the point of being a beast if she couldn’t embrace the benefits? Speed, power, size, teeth, claws, and a thick hide that was now scarred from what the Darby Clan and Red Dead Mayhem had done.

She bunched her muscles and leapt for the bird. He opened his wings and lifted just inches from her outstretched claws. All she caught was a single feather before she hurdled into the tree. The second she hit the ground, she was off again, chasing after the low-flying crow. He was staying beneath the canopy of evergreen branches and winter trees with their limbs stretched out, as if they were trying to grab the damned thing. Even the woods hated this crow.

Her legs burned as she pushed herself, bolting for the coward crow, winding around trees, her frozen breath hindering her view each time she exhaled.

Come into her territory? Watch her? Scare Genie? Ally with the cougars? Bring war to her mountains? She would end him. Red. Red Dead. Mayhem.

Kill it.

Her nerve endings were burning as she pushed herself faster and faster, her paws barely touching the ground as she brushed by trees. The crow tucked its wings to avoid branches, dipping and climbing as it flew to escape her.

A flash of movement caught her eye. One glance to her right, and she knew she wasn’t alone. Ava’s massive polar bear was cutting toward the bird at a dead run. On Karis’s other side, an enormous blond grizzly barreled toward the fleeing bird, too. Colton was here. That little feathered fucker was doomed if the look in her mate’s gold eyes was anything to go by. God, he was beautiful. Scarred, massive, filled with the explosive power of a grenade. The Warmaker was here to protect their territory with her.

She looked forward again just in time for a beast of a black horse, ridden by her Alpha, Trigger, to skid to a stop in front of her, cutting off her path to the crow. Shit! Karis locked her legs against the snowy ground and did her best to keep from running into Harley, Trigger’s moody stallion. He was already bucking when she came to a stop, her paws just inches from Harley’s stomping hooves. Beside her, Colt and Ava had slid to a halt, too, and when she looked up into Trigger’s face, his eyes were feral and bright gold.

Move, Alpha! The crow is getting away!

Trigger’s lip snarled up as he lifted a pistol into the air and fired. Boom!

At the sound of the gunshot, just past the fence line, dozens of crows lifted from the thick evergreen branches into the air, blocking out the sunlight with their beating wings.

Harley screamed, the crows cawed, and Colt roared his fury loud enough to shake the ground beneath her feet. On her other side, Ava did the same, and Karis bellowed with her Clan. Red Dead Mayhem had tried to lure her away from the others for a calculated attack. She’d let her rage take over and had fallen for the trap. That crow had been bait, and Trigger had seen it. He’d stopped the hurt before it happened.

But though Hairpin Trigger was being smart about preventing a war they were unprepared to wage, the fiery look he and Colt offered each other said the outlaws wouldn’t let this pass.

As much as Karis knew she owned the heart of the Warmaker…

Revenge owned it, too.