Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Immediately, iron bars dropped down in front of the door, making her scream and jump back. She looked around, nothing else seemed to have changed. Her heart was racing in her chest, and a bunch of fresh dust floating in the air from the bang. She cautiously approached the bars, holding them with both hands. Poppy felt like a monkey in a cage, and the panic started to set in. There was no way out. The bars rattled as she shook them, gentle at first, and wildly as she began to freak out.
“Wilder!”
What the hell was this room for? Why would the button to trap the bears be on the inside? He’d be trapped inside with them. Nothing made sense, and now because she couldn’t mind her own business again, she was trapped.
As time passed, desperation set in. If something happened to Wilder, she’d die in here. There was no way out, he’d made sure of that. She had no food, and in her panicked state, felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“Help!” She reached through the bars, banging on the main door with a closed fist. “Wilder!”
She decided to try the window. Maybe there was a way to get the metal out, a level something. As she tried to pry her fingers under the thick metal, the massive claw marks made her shudder. Whatever was trapped in here had tried to escape, just as she was now.
The loud sound of the metal gate made her spin around.
It was Wilder, lifting up the bars, locking them back into place high above the door. She cried and ran to him, a mix of relief and turbulent emotions. Poppy wrapped her arms around his waist and he held her head against him.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry. I pushed the button.”
He chuckled softly. “I should have expected that.”
She leaned back, glancing around the room. “Wilder, this place. What was this room for?”
“Me.”
Poppy shook her head. “I’m serious. Whose room was it?”
“Mine.” He held her wrists, and she didn’t pull away. No more jumping to conclusions.
“I didn’t want to kill a deer, a hiker, or someone’s dog because I couldn’t control myself yet.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. This was not sounding good, and she found herself holding her breath.
“Since I was thirteen, I locked myself in here every full moon. I couldn’t trust myself. Couldn’t control ... my bear.”
“You had a bear?” So, she was right. He was hurting wild bears in here.
“No, Poppy. I am a bear.” He looked down at her, no hint of humor in his voice.
Why was he saying dumb things like this. Was he crazy?
The sound of breaking glass had him pulling away.
“Smoke,” he said.
She smelled it, too.
“Get the fawn and the dogs in here. Understand?”
She nodded rapidly, rushing out after him. The smoke was pouring into the living room. All his beautiful antiques and plaid furniture, everything he’d built was going to get destroyed. She felt fear and anger and sadness all while madly ushering the animals back to the safe room.
Wilder threw something back out the window. He had no weapons. How would he stop them from coming in and killing her?
There were gunshots outside and she screamed, scaring Milly. She scooped her with her other arm and carried her the rest of the way. Once she settled the fawn and the three dogs safely in the room, she sealed them inside by closing the heavy door. Poppy put the key in her pocket. She returned to the melee. The men were trying to get inside.
“Oh my God, Wilder.”
They were breaking down the front door, the frame was splintering and giving way. Then the entire door fell inward, crashing down on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. It was hard to see with the smoke and darkness. One of the men took a step inside and immediately shot Wilder. He grunted. She screamed so loud she startled herself.
“Wilder!”
Poppy started to run to him but he held out his arm barring her way. “Stay back! Stay behind me.” Then he turned around to look her in the eyes. “Whatever you do, don’t scream.”
He was bleeding, his shirt stained red, blood dripping onto the floor. She couldn’t lose him. The same poacher aimed his gun in her direction, but Wilder rushed forward, struggling to disarm the man. Other men started pushing into the little house to help their friend. Wilder was outnumbered and gravely injured.
Then everything changed.
Wilder squatted down, yielding, or so she thought. His shirt started to rip, right down along his spine, his back changing, growing. He slowly began to rise, not because he was standing up, but due to his size. Hair began to replace skin, and the energy in the room changed. Within seconds the huge grizzly she’d seen by that campfire was standing in the living room.