Page 27 of Dark

“Come again?”

“This ain’t happy hour down at the Naughty Kitty and West can tell you I don’t look any good in a thong.”

And then I got it. “You realize if I accidentally get loose, I’ll kill everything between here and Llano.”

“You won’t.”

“Oh, well, so long as you’re sure.” I shoved him in the chest with his hat.

Rocking back a few inches, he rubbed his lip. “Look, I know this is new—”

“Try, I’ve had two days with it.”

“—but the only way you’re going to learn to control that mad little she-wolf of yours is to shift during the day, sometime when you aren’t completely wild with moonlust.”

“And we’re stripping first because? When I came to in my car, I was still fully dressed.”

“It’s how everyone learns. Clothes and piercings will transform when you shift, but the less you have on, the less power you have to draw and the easier it is to stay clear-headed.”

I crossed my arms. “So why are you stripping?”

“Yeah. Like you’d really agree to get naked if I didn’t.”

I huffed and he smirked.

“You got a better idea? Other than sending me over to the Dairy Queen at sunset for a dozen Bacon Cheese GrillBurgers and a sack of Dilly Bars? ‘Cause I’m kinda worried Beowulf won’t even stop chewing long enough to spit out the sticks.”

“You are so not naming her that.”

“No, I’m thinking maybe Thin Mint Crazy.”

I glared, the memory of that first night I’d nearly lost control threatening to empty my stomach, the thought of it happening again—

But Ethan was right. I had to do this. What was the alternative? Bury my head under a pillow and slowly turn feral over the course of the next few months? Ellie and I had already lost both our parents. I couldn’t put her through losing me, too.

I shoved his shoulder. “Turn—”

A branch snapped. We both whirled, scanning the horizon where a line of trees dipped down towards a dry creek bed. My heart raced, the wind whipping my hair into my eyes. A dark shape bolted off into the grass.

“Stay here!” Ethan barked, taking off before I could protest.

“What? No way!”

But it was too late. There was a sharp crack, and Ethan was gone, an enormous black wolf blurring off into the trees.

“Are you kidding me?”

Stumbling after him, I tore at the sleeves of my jacket and kicked at my shoes, only to nearly face-plant in a patch of prickly pears. Freaking great. Snarling, I yanked at the knots in my laces, hopping away from what would have been a spiny and completely suck-tastic end to the afternoon. My chucks landed, first one, then the other off in the grass. Every damn sticker burr in three counties picked that moment to latch onto the wacky sushi socks Ellie got me for my birthday.

Total. Werewolf. Fail.

Which, whatever. You try stripping out of skinny jeans and your bra while some rogue wolf was getting away. No wonder guys went commando.

Finally naked and more than a little weirded out about baring it all to every Google Maps satellite, flying saucer and Amazon drone flying overhead, I squirmed in place, trying to call forth my inner wolf goddess, or however one did this, to remember the feeling of my bones splitting in two. But other than a pounding headache and a familiar shaking in my limbs, nothing happened.

“Un-freaking-believable,” I snarled, pressing fingers to the scar at my throat.

Instantly the bond sharpened like a rope pulled taut, Ethan’s heartbeat a steady whoosh in my ears as I closed my eyes, black spots forming in my field of vision. Dull pressure buzzed in the back of my mind, saliva filling my mouth as my muscles contracted. For a second, I swore my skin was being peeled inside out like a freshly-plucked chicken’s, that I was lying trapped in a bed, bound in rope, unable to move, stretch, or scream. The wolf clawed for an exit in a room with no doors, desperate to shed our human flesh. And then in the next instant, I was torn free.