The Cowbear's Christmas Shotgun Wedding (Curvy Bear Ranch 3) Read Online Free Page B

that night. After her mother had died, he’d spent more time drunk than sober.
    Just thinking about the hell she’d been through as a child brought her bear out of its slumber. A rush of anger clawed at her ribcage. Her bear never tried to get escape unless she was raging. If she didn’t find a way to channel her anger, she’d end up shifting.
    She couldn’t take that risk, so she returned her attention to the current pile of broken tools and wooden planks. Just below a rotten board, she found a hammer. It wasn’t the hammer. She’d made sure to hide it in the woods that night after her father had passed out. In her sixteen-year-old mind, if he didn’t have access to things to hit her with, he wouldn’t hit her anymore. She’d been wrong. But at the time she’d been grasping for any way to stop another beating.
    As she climbed down the stairs, her foot landed on a rotten rung. It snapped, throwing her off-balance and catapulting her the last ten feet through the air. She landed on her back with a thud. Air whooshed from her lungs. For a moment, she couldn’t take another breath, and then she gasped as oxygen rushed in to fill the void.
    This was all her father’s fault. She wouldn’t be lying on her back in the middle of the barn if he’d taken care of the ranch. But he’d been too busy drinking away his bitterness when he wasn’t blaming her for ruining his life.
    He’d hated her from the moment she’d been born. He’d wanted a son more than anything in the world, but after her birth, the doctor had warned them that it was too dangerous for her mother to carry another child. Her father had blamed Kate for ruining his dream of having a huge family. He’d never get a chance to have a son.
    Fury propelled her to her feet. Screw him for taking his rage out on her. She stalked through the damp barn into the blinding sunlight. Her gaze fixated on the windows at the front of the barn. Her bear growled and huffed, wanting to be released. But she refused to shift. Instead, she lifted the hammer and smashed it against the window.
    The resounding shatter coursed through her veins. Her bear loved destruction, but so had her father’s bear. Maybe it was in her blood. Maybe wrecking things was a genetic necessity. Maybe she should just tear up the whole fucking place.
    She ran through the snow to the next window. The reflection in the glass wasn’t hers; it was her father’s. She smashed the glass, fracturing her image. With each window she destroyed, the fury in her belly intensified until she screamed, “Fuck you, Daddy. I hope you’re burning in hell for being a monster.”
    She froze in front of the last window as a realization hit her square in the gut. She wasn’t just smashing her father’s image, she was smashing her own. Deep inside, she knew what she was—a monster. No better than her father. Sometimes, she wished she’d never been born. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the bear hibernating in her body, just waiting to unleash its fury on the world.
    “Freak.”
    “Demon.”
    The echoing voices of the vicious kids at school still haunted her at night. Why hadn’t she been born normal? Why did she have to be different from everyone else?
    Sure, West Yellowstone had its fair share of shifters, but their presence wasn’t ever acknowledged. The humans in town had learned to coexist with them. As long as shifters never appeared in their bear form, the humans would leave them be. She knew what would happen if she let her bear run free. She’d be hunted. Shot. Stuffed. And then hung on a human’s wall as a trophy.
    She shuddered. As she raised the hammer to break the last window, the sensation of being watched crawled across the back of her neck like an army of spiders. She whipped around and gazed through the glare of reflected sunlight. Nothing moved.
    As much as she hated being a shifter, she never ignored her instincts. Someone was out there. Watching. Waiting.
    She shook the fear away. It