Skinwalkers: Distant Thunder, the epic sequel to Skinwalkers, is coming to FurAffinity!

Read the first book here if you haven’t already: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53622478/

War is coming.

Wendigos walk the Earth once more, feasting on humans and skinwalkers alike. Devastated by the massacre that nearly wiped out his pack, Fey's former alpha has called for a council to warn the other packs about the lurking danger. But it's a long way to Skinwalker Ranch, and they soon find themselves lost and stranded, with nature itself conspiring to stop them. Emotions are running high. Fey must come to terms with the responsibilities she spent the past three years running from, Clueless struggles with her newfound sentience, and Zave's developing powers continue to mystify even the magical creatures fate has teamed him up with.

The winds of change are blowing. Fey, Zave, and Clueless have heard the distant thunder, but will they have time to act before the storm hits?


Read it here for free on Wednesday, November 6th 2024,
or buy it now on Kindle



SAMPLE


"Get off!" Zave yelled.

"Zave!" came Fey's worried voice. "Are you all right?"

It took Zave a minute to remember where he was. He, as well as Fey and all the others, were on the plane that Glenn had led them to. Even now they were more than five miles in the air, racing toward Utah and Skinwalker Ranch.

Zave craned his neck around to see Fey peering at him from between the seats. She was seated behind him, with the plane's window on his right, and Glenn to his left. Behind Fey sat Clueless and Ember—Zave had tried to sit next to Clueless, but in an especially cutting insult she had obstinately selected the seat next to the surly fox-walker instead. Behind them sat Norrin, dead asleep and taking up two seats all by himself.

Taking a deep breath, Zave was finally able to stop shaking. "Y- Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, did I make a scene?"

"A little," Fey admitted, "but it's okay. It was just a bad dream, right?"

"Right," Zave whispered, reaching up to feel his throat. He knew it was all in his head. Who wouldn't suffer a bad dream or two after what he'd seen? But at the same time, he almost swore he could still feel where Donner had grabbed him. Like there should have been a burn—or frostbite, more likely—in the perfect shape of a handprint.

"Here," said Glenn, holding something out to him.

Curious, Zave took it. It was a little wooden carving, about the size of his thumb. It had obviously been whittled in a hurry, but the shape of a human head was unmistakable.

"Find the one that belongs to you and pass the rest back to the others," Glenn said to Fey, handing her a small handful of similar carvings. "I want you to keep hold of these. Always have them close by."

Zave glanced at his carving again, then back at Fey's. There didn't seem to be anything special about them—except, now that he really looked, he saw that Fey's carving had a goat's head instead of a human like his.

"What are they?" he asked.

"A safeguard, just in case," Glenn answered. "It's not much, but it should help if you run into trouble."

Zave slipped it into his pocket and turned to look out the window. Far, far below them, the earth was like a green and brown patchwork quilt. Farmland made squares and rectangles, while the occasional forests were huge, shapeless patches of green. Every now and then they would pass over a city, its whites and grays a stark contrast to the more natural colors that surrounded them. Looking down at them, Zave couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from those tiny harbors of civilization. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was so high up, but something in the back of his mind whispered to him that there was more to it. More had changed about him over the past week than even he realized.

He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he no longer belonged to that world of lights and machines, where convenience and comfort were taken for granted.

"Have you ever been on an airplane?" he asked, turning to Glenn again.

The gray haired deer-walker shook his head.

Zave pointed toward the window. "You want to switch seats? Look outside for a—"

"All a view like that would do," Glenn cut him off softly, "is remind me of Skylar."

Zave's mouth snapped shut. Overwhelmed as everyone was by the deaths of the pack's youngest members, it was easy—disturbingly easy—to forget that they had lost one of their older members too. The hawk-walker had perished before Zave had even arrived to save Fey and the others from the wendigo horde.

Following the visions let me save Fey, Glenn, Ember, and Norrin, he thought ruefully. Could I have saved Skylar too if I'd been a little faster? Or would everything have played out differently if I hadn't arrived at the exact moment I did?

A low rumble reached Zave's ears, just barely louder than the distant roar of the plane's engines, and he looked outside to see a line of dark clouds on the horizon. Lightning flashed deep inside them, followed by quiet claps of thunder.

"It looks like it's coming straight for us," Fey said, peering nervously out her own window. "And fast."

"Did the forecast say anything about storms today?" Zave asked, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

Fey snorted. "How would I know? There aren't any weather channels in the woods, Zave."

Zave's face burned with embarrassment, but it wasn't enough to banish the growing feeling of dread in his stomach.

"That day back home," he said quietly, eyeing the goat-walker behind him, "there was a huge storm just before the…you-know-whats appeared. Do you think—"

Before he could finish, a gust of wind slammed into the side of the plane, and the entire thing wobbled back and forth a little. A few people muttered worriedly, but it quickly righted itself.

"Unless they learned how to grow wings when we weren't looking," said Fey, "I don't think we need to worry."

By now the sky outside the plane had gone almost completely dark. It was still bright inside the plane, but Zave couldn't help but wring his hands as he stared out the window. Raindrops battered the window like tiny bullets, and lightning would flash every few seconds, revealing the churning, roiling sea of clouds surrounding them. By now the thunder was coming at the same time as the lightning, and each clap was deafening.

"How do we know they didn't grow wings?" he asked, his heart in his throat.

"Zave," Glenn said calmly, "sometimes a storm is just a—

"Attention passengers," a disembodied voice interrupted, "this is your captain speaking. We've run into some unexpected weather, but things are going to be just…"

His voice trailed off, and for a few seconds everything was silent except for the crash of thunder and the patter of rain.

"What in the world is THAT?" the captain exclaimed.

Then there was a BANG even louder than the thunder, and the entire plane lurched to the side.