Page 71 of The Lunatics

In wolf form, my head came to his chest. I leaned forward and bit the sleeve of his sweater, trying to loosen his grip on himself. His eyes cracked open and then flashed wide. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared at me. The threat of panic disappeared from the bond, replaced by outright shock. My mate was surprised and impressed by my size. It made me want to preen. I took a few dancing steps in front of him, showing off.

“You are enormous,” he said.

I pulled myself up to my full height and grinned at him.

He blinked at me several times in quick succession.

I headbutted him in the chest.

He took a staggering step backward. “What was that for?”

I whined at him.Shift, you goober.

When he just stared at me, I whined again and moved forward. He put his hands up to hold me off, but I was faster. I snuck beneath his guard and rubbed my entire length over his hip. Why was my mate still in human form? He should be down on all fourswith me. The forest beckoned, and I wanted to run through it with him. Howl with him. Show him all of my favorite places. Maybe we could spook a rabbit or catch a trout in the river.

I turned and rubbed over his other hip. He smelled too much like a human, too much like himself. Where was my scent?

“You are leaving an untenable amount of hair on my clothes,” he said.

I whined louder and leaned my forehead into his ribs.

He released a shaky breath. The subtle sound of movement came from overhead, and then his fingers were in the thick band of fur on my neck. My mate was touching me back! Yay! I yipped and pushed into him, forgetting my strength. He landed on his ass in the dirt. Happy that he was now at my level, I lunged forward, nearly tackling him.

“Okay. Yes. I know this is all very exciting.” Michael tried to pat and subdue me at the same time, but I rolled roughshod over him, coating him in my hair and my scent. “Layla, you are being absurd right now.”

He sounded stern, but my mate couldn’t lie to me. I felt his amusement. He thought I was funny! I yip-growled and took him all the way to the ground, landing flat on top of him, demonstrating my superior strength and skill, all the reasons I made a good mate.

He let out a low chuckle. “I believe you now. You can keep me from hurting anyone.”

Oh. Yes. That’s what I’d been doing. Demonstrating my ability to contain him. Not losing my mind with giddy abandon because this was the first time I’d turned in almost a week.

With a monumental effort, I reined in my baser instincts and heaved myself off him.

He got back to his feet, brushing hair and dirt from his clothes. “Will you stay here?”

I nodded, proving that I was capable of some semblance of rational thought.

He turned and paced away. A minute later he disappeared behind a massive white pine that had split near the base early on in its life, so that three trunks punched through the canopy instead of one. I cocked my head sideways and listened to him taking off his clothes. Ferns rustled and leaves crunched. His fear returned, threatening to infect me, but it was easier not to let it in this form. Shifting was right, natural. I beat back his fear and projected my own calm toward him, and his worry abated some.

I grinned, proud of myself, but my amusement disappeared when a sharp stab of pain suddenly cut down the entire length of my spine.

I dropped to the ground, writhing. Ow! What the hell?

I jerked my head up and searched for my assailant. There was no one in sight. Another wallop of pain punched through me, this time in my ribs. It felt like someone was trying to tear them free from my torso.

A low, mournful sound that no human throat could make came from behind the tree, and I realized that just like last night, it wasn’t me being hurt. It was Michael.

I struggled to my paws and raced forward, skidding to a stop when I caught sight of him. He was halfway through the shift, curled in the fetal position, his back to me. Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. He still wore his human skin, allowing me a front row view of the bruises that covered it. With a popping sound, his right arm wrenched up and backward, like a malicious ghost had gotten hold of his wrist and was trying to dislocate it. We growled in shared pain, and he let out a low moan when it passed.

I stepped up to him, sniffing and whining. Why was he fighting it? If he just gave in to the shift, it would go so much smoother and wouldn’t leave him looking like an assault victim.

“Layla, go!” he yelled.

Over my dead body. Something was hurting my mate. It was my job to protect him. Even if that meant protecting him from himself. Power punched at the cage I kept it in, demanding out. I dropped my shields and let it pour from me, focusing the tidal wave straight down onto Michael.

You are a wolf,I thought.Claiming this form is as natural as breathing. It is power. It is beauty. It is family. Fur and freedom and moonlight. Come out, Michael.I crowded in close, brushing my fur over him, forcing the comforting scent of his mate to fill his nose, projecting a torrent of peace and acceptance across the bond.

His shoulders relaxed. Marginally.