“You said that before.”
She followed him as he went farther into his house. Fabiana’s home was for show, at best. Most of the younger pups used her place to hide and practice shifting at rapid speeds. Pasquale’s home had become her haven where people knew not to search for her.
And they kept it secret from the Lombardis as well.
“I think the more I think about it, it isn’t just about your interaction. Your wolf sounds almost human?”
Pfft. I have four legs, which is better than your stupid two. And I can lick my balls when I want to.
Pasquale choked on a laugh. “Yeah, he does.”
“But it’s not just what you’d think you’d say, or your tone, right?”
Pasquale nodded. His bedroom was cool and dark, the bed low to the floor just like he liked it.
Of course that made him think of Giuliana’s bedroom and what he’d like to do to her in it.
He groaned and focused on his sister’s question while packing his go bag. “Yes. His voice is … deeper than mine and doesn’t have the same cadence. His thoughts are like mine, yes, but not exactly what I’d say at the time.”
At first, he’d thought he was just going crazy, using the wolf as a way to get some separation from the world he was in. That he’d spent so much time talking to himself, he’d created an alter that just sounded like a wolf. But even when he shifted, he noticed his wolf thought the same way, played pranks on him—like tripping up his feet when he was trying to catch a rabbit.
They’d bonded as two souls inhabiting one body instead of just one who was both animal and man. And yet they were one. He couldn’t be separated without the other.
“Has he ever taken over control?”
“Like a feral wolf? Of course not.”
Some shifters who’d lost their way or sank too much into their misery could shift into their wolf and stay. The longer they stayed in wolf form, the less human they seemed to become. While they were more intelligent, they still appeared to be a wolf.
“Not feral, but he just has the reins.”
Can you?
I could, but I won’t.
Why?
Because we are one.
So it’s about respect.
Yes, but it’s also about being trapped.
You’d turn feral.
Yes. And I won’t do that to you.
“Were you asking him?”
“Yes. He says he could, but he wouldn’t because he could turn feral.”
Fabiana tapped her lip, so many thoughts racing through her eyes he couldn’t keep up. “I wonder.”
He didn’t even respond; she was gone anyway. One moment she was a battered shell, unsure of what or who she was, and the next she was in search of answers to questions no one would think to ask. He was happy as long as she became comfortable in her own skin. It might be like walking through a minefield sometimes, but she was worth it.
She deserved to have some peace, and he’d do everything he could to give it to her.
Bag packed, complete with his gun and holster, he clipped the bag on his back, balancing the band that held it over one shoulder and across his chest to the other side of his body. The design allowed for him to shift in and out without being strangled or tied up in something around his front two legs. He’d perfected the art of rolling several sets of clothes into the bag with provisions, water, extra ammo, and a medical kit. He could stay away from his pack for weeks if need be.
