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Kallen had first come to the coalition.
    Then Kallen went to stand in front of the mirror. He ran his fingers through his semi-long scraggly hair. It was the same style he’d worn most of his life and was popular among most Hyenas. He wondered what it would look like if it were shorter like that of most of the other Hawks.
    Rummaging through the drawers, he finally came up with a pair of scissors that looked sharp enough to the job. He pulled them out and began to carefully cut at his hair. Since he’d cut several of his old pack mates’ hair, he wasn’t totally unqualified, but he’d just never had to do so neat a job of it before.
    It took him a bit longer, but he finally managed, and once he was done, he couldn’t help but be impressed with the work. His hair was now short and neatly styled, the sides just barely touching his ears, while the back ended at his collar.
    Eager to show off his handiwork, he rushed out to the kitchen. When Gage saw him, his mouth parted in shock.
    “Do you like it?” Kallen asked.
    “Are you kidding? You look fantastic. Who knew that such a great-looking guy was under all that hair? I’m going to have to beat the guys back with a stick.”
    Kallen grinned, basking under his brother’s praise.

Chapter Four
    Only Ash would want to have an everyday conversation while in the middle of a battle with not one, but two, casts of Ravens. And only Drake would have the sucky luck to be saddled with fighting next to him during said battle.
    “So how is Operation Breakfast going?” Ash asked as he dodged a bullet.
    They were currently at the shore of the Flint River, doing their best not to be driven into the water by the birds, all the while trying not to attract too much attention from the humans. No problem. Easy peasy. Cue sarcasm.
    Drake dove to the ground just as a Raven swooped down, talons extended, its intent to take off his head. “Fine, as he’s gone out with me the past three mornings.”
    Ash smiled even as he shot a Raven dead. “That’s great news. It must mean he likes you.”
    Drake took a hit to the gut and fell backward. “Has he told you as much?” he gasped.
    “Well, he told us he doesn’t hate you anymore, so that’s a start.” Ash hissed in pain when a Raven sliced his arm with its talons.
    The bird that had kicked Drake jumped on top of him and began to tear at his chest with his claws. Drake gritted his teeth against the pain, lifted his gun, shoved it in the fucker’s mouth, then fired.
    He winced as blood and gore splattered his face and upper body. Ugh! This was so not the look he was going for. This kind of décor was more Shane’s thing, not Drake’s.
    Drake pushed the now dead Raven off him, then stood, trying to shake the worst of the guts off. Ash rushed, dragged him behind a dumpster for cover, than began to look over his wounds.
    “Dude, your chest looks like hamburger.”
    “Is that the medical term for torn to shit?”
    “Yeah, pretty much?” Ash said with a shrug.
    “Whatever it means, it hurts like hell.” Drake let out a moan.
    “Can you shift?”
    Drake tried only to find that he was in too much pain. It felt like somebody had taken white-hot lances to his chest and scrambled them around for shits and giggles. It hadn’t even hurt this bad when he’d broken both his legs.
    “No, I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck dragging my sorry ass to the van.”
    Ash made a tsking noise. “You always did have to make things hard on me.”
    “That’s payback for having to listen to your mouth all the time.”
    Ash paused a moment. “I guess you do have a point there.”
    He motioned to two mated soldiers who were forever stuck with the nicknames Dumb and Ass. The pair fought their way over. Dumb having to decapitate a Raven to get through.
    “What can we do for you?” Ass asked.
    “I need to get Drake here to the van because he’s injured. Do you think you can cover us?”
    “You got it,” Dumb said.
    Drake let out another groan.