Page 26 of Blood and Trouble

No big deal. No big…deal.

I hauled myself to my feet as my skin flushed, my vision blacking out with little stars. I gripped the sink and closed my eyes. My muscles quaked, and I ached all over like I’d been hit by a semi. I couldn’t remember a time I’d been so hungover.

I didn’t do things like this. I didn’t…I didn’t…

“Hey,” Lycan said from behind me, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. Even disheveled and hungover, he still looked amazing. I resembled fresh steamed garbage. “You okay?”

I turned to face him with a grimace and ran my hands over my face. “I don’t know.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his still naked body. His skin was so warm and his muscles so hard. I melted into him.

“We got married last night,” I grumbled into his chest.

“I know,” he said with a laugh. “I was there.”

I had a million retorts to that, but a violent tremor shot down my torso, and I shivered in his hold.

“Hey, are you okay?” He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away from him, leaning back so he could hold my jaw and tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

Another wave of heat rocked through me, and my world shattered.

CHAPTER 5

Lycan

Magic pulsed out of her body in a translucent wave that pushed me away from her. I slammed into the bathroom wall and hovered there, suspended by pheromones and the weight of her shifter side taking control. I’d heard stories about the transition before, but I’d never been in person for one, aside from my own. But that was a hazy mess I didn’t really remember.

This was unlike anything I could have imagined. Waves of energy poured off her, holding me in their grip. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk. I could barely blink. She grimaced and arched her back, her fingers curled at her sides, her black hair wisping around her head like she was underwater.

Fuck.

I’d known it was close. I’d smelled it on her for weeks now, inching farther to the surface with each passing day. But I thought I had more time. Typically, the transition happened right before the full moon, allowing the shifter to integrate with their new pack at the next change.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?

The new moon had just passed. We were at least ten days out.

I tried to push myself off the wall, but another surge glued me in place. My inner wolf howled, yipping with excitement. He’d been yearning for this, desperate to help her, to be the one who carried her into her new world. It had been on the tip of my tongue so many times, especially when she was upset about no one wanting her.

“Just wait,” I wanted to say. “You’re going to be one hell of a shifter. Males will lick your boots for an ounce of your attention.”

Judging by the state we woke up in, I would have thought I’d done that very thing last night. But even though my memory was a drunken blur, I knew nothing had happened.

We’d played poker at the pub until everyone else left, and then we’d sat there, nursing a bottle of whiskey until we couldn’t see straight. She made a joke. I took her seriously. And the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of some sleazy Elvis impersonator at a Las Vegas style wedding chapel, vowing to love and honor her for the rest of my life. Laughing at how we’d screwed over the world, we’d stumbled back here like consequences didn’t matter. My tolerance hadn’t been tested like that in decades. I blamed the transition. Her magic must have been calling to mine, fucking with my head, fucking with my ability to keep my shit together.

Yeah, blame the girl for your piss poor manners.

With one final burst, Ava fell to the ground in a heap of sweat and sobs. I raced toward her, scooping her up as she cried.

“Lycan, it hurts. What’s going on?” It came out in low garbles and grunts.

“You’re in transition, Trouble,” I said as I carried her back to the bed.

After laying her in the center, I took a step back to scrub my hands over my face. Objectively, I knew how this worked. I was the experienced, dominant wolf in this situation. I was supposed to give her my magic…in blood and seed and sweat. She needed it, or she wouldn’t survive. But I was nothing without consent, and she hadn’t exactly signed up for this. She didn’t know what was happening, and if she did…

“What?” She winced, curling into her side to clutch her stomach. “What’s transition? I feel like I’m on fire.”

Her scent roped off her in thick, heavy tendrils, coconut and female, and fuck, it caught me in its trap. It launched my wolf into overdrive, shoving him to the forefront of my restraint. He didn’t have such hesitations. He knew instinctively what needed to happen, what would happen.