She thrashed against the body holding her, jabbing her elbows back, trying to sink her teeth into the flesh of their palm. Pure, blinding fear choked her. Whatever had her was not letting go.
It was a man. She caught his scent, throat closing, neurons misfiring.
Not a man. Amale. A shifter.
She fought harder until a low chuckle poured like honey into her ear, her muscles instantly relaxing.
“Easy there, hell-cat. No need to bite.”
A beat passed as her brain fought to catch up to her biological reaction. And then she shoved away. This time, the iron bands of his arms released her, and she turned around with fury in her snarl.
“Don’tdothat!”
Arthur Wells shrugged, eyes gleaming with amusement as he crossed his arms over his enormous chest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What? It’s funny.”
Her breath was coming fast and short, the edges of her vision still blurry, her animal reaction priming her body to run, to fight, to escape. She pressed a hand to her chest, squeezing her eyes tight, refusing to let any tears fall.
She couldn’t have a panic attack. Not here, not in front of him.
Focusing on her breathing, she ran through five things she could see. Floor. Shoes. Walls, windows, desks.
Arthur, his brow furrowing, eyes narrowing in concern. “Shit, sorry, Dani, I didn’t mean—”
“Just”—she held up her hand as he reached for her, fingers white and shaky—“just give me a second. You scared me, that’s all.”
He at least had the decency to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other still hovering awkwardly towards her. “I’m an idiot, seriously. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said again, scraping her hair back and blowing out a large breath of air. “How do you even move so quietly?”
He gave her a quizzical look, “I don’t.”
“Right,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Shifter thing, I guess.”
Understanding dawned, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry, I suppose I do move quietly for…”
“Human ears?”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” he said, stepping towards her.
She took a step back, ignoring the flash of hurt across his face. She didn’t trust herself, standing too close to him. Stupidshifter senses. He’d wonder why her heart was still beating so fast, why her pupils would dilate. Why her scent would change.
“It’s okay,” she managed a casual laugh. “I mean, I basically am a human. For the time being, I guess.”
“So the healer…”
“Still nothing,” she smiled brightly, shrugging as if they were discussing the weather, “but it’s not unheard of. Maybe after graduation. He said a change of scenery might—”
“Change of scenery?” Arthur repeated, leaning back against one of the desks, the wood groaning underneath his weight. Eighteen years old, and already one of the largest wolves in the Nordan pack. It was reflected in his ridiculous height, the breadth of his shoulders, the heaviness of his brow.
The Ice Bear, they were beginning to call him. It made sense. She’d seen his wolf. A silvery-white monstrosity with ice-blue eyes and slavering jaws.
His human form still had the piercing eyes and a budding collection of scars. But his hair, kept long and pulled back into a bun to the eternal irritation of the human schoolteachers, was chestnut brown, his skin ruddy with a suntan.
He looked like he belonged in the mountains, the glaciers, the pure wilderness that surrounded them. And he did.
She, on the other hand…
“College, Arthur,” she said, hopping up onto the desk opposite him, propping her chin on her hand. “I want to go somewhere warm. California, maybe.”
