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Kian is aware of me. He reaches for me in his head. To soothe himself or me, I couldn’t say. It’s not enough for placating words.

Words are never enough.

I stretch out and take over. Try to take over. He fights me, and we’re caught in mid-shift. Each warring for power, for control. He’s still talking, streams of words that flow on deaf ears.

He took Astra while I was suffering.

He didn’t let us follow our instinct, didn’t wait for me to solidify our mate bond.

He stole her from me.

I roar, and I’m faintly aware of Astra’s hands on my skin. My skin. I push Kian out the rest of the way and shift. My bones crack, snap into place. I growl, the rage a terrible storm inside me. I stare at Astra, willing her to understand that her innocence was not Kian’s to take alone.

Our mate bond will not be secure unless my magic is with him, and I don’t feel the difference. Don’t feel its strength—just the same as it was before.

Instinct drives me forward, and anger. The room smells of her blood and fear, the scent heady. If she were a wolf, I’d force the shift upon her and discipline her in her tougher form. But even as I leap at her and knock her down, as I would a pup, her pain rattles through me.

I bite her. It’s not hard, but it’s enough to give her an awakening of my own power.

She’s terrified. Her hands remain at her sides; her eyes leak salt water.

Enough, Kian screams.

The sound is deafening. Not meant for this form.

Not meant for me.

I shove him down, down, down. My teeth sink farther into Astra’s skin, blood welling up, and she whimpers. She’s babbling, noise that I want to comprehend, but there’s just the rushing in my ears that blocks her meaning.

Her eyes open, glassy with tears. And then… carefully, slowly, she turns her face away and extends her neck.

Submission.

My growling cuts off abruptly. My blood sings.

Joy floods my body, and I revel in the feeling of her opening herself to me—wittingly or not. I open my jaw and let her fall back flat to the floor. Her chest heaves, but I ignore it and touch my nose to her throat. My magic is different than my human’s. It floods out of me on instinct and closes the bite. It heals her throat, too, although where that injury came from, I can’t say.

She reaches up tentatively and curls her fingers into the fur at my neck.

It would be considered a threat if it wasn’t her. The mate bond is firmer now. I can’t yet feel her emotions, or her mine, but I sense the new path to her mind.

I slowly lie down beside her, draping my paw over her chest. She eyes me but doesn’t let go. If anything, her grip on my fur strengthens.

I forgive you, I tell her. Human words.

She blinks, her mouth parting at my voice in her head.

Mind-speak is a gift for mates passed down from our ancestors. Alphas have more control and can reach others. Even now, I balance the rest of my pack in the back of my mind. Their chatter, their emotions, are distant. The white noise babble of a river.

This is my first opportunity to communicate with my mate without the human’s vocal cords, or his filter of what is appropriate, or his iron grip of control on his two-legged form.

Instead of words, I send her whole-picture thoughts.

Us in a forest. Her wolf, sandy blonde and lithe, running with me under a full moon. Our flashing legs, the scent of a rabbit. The adrenaline of a hunt.

Her fingers slide through my fur. Her scent is more honey than lemon right now, her heartbeat finally coming back under control. Kian washed away the scent of their coupling, but it’s still there. Still taunting me.

“Let me up,” she whispers.