Page 54 of Israel

That damn necklace. He wanted to rip it off her neck, but he didn’t know what effect it would have if he tried.

Damn Jesse for not getting back to him.

He pushed the curtain back further and leaned into the bunk, shaking her gently. “Ashley,” he whispered. “Wake up. Are you okay?”

Her eyes half-opened and she moaned.

“Ashley?” he whispered again.

The skin of her shoulder rippled under his hand, and he heard the soft, sharp ‘snap’ of a bone cracking.

Holy shit, she was about to shift.

She’d sworn she didn’t panic shift. She didn’t shift at all.

And she sure as hell couldn’t shift here, on a tour bus in the middle of the highway. Half the people on the bus didn’t even know about shifters, including the driver. If he freaked out, he could crash the bus. Best case, Ashley would be outed. This could be a disaster in more ways than one.

“Ashley,” he said, low and urgent. “Ashley, try to listen to me. You can’t shift here.”

She moaned again, her skin rippling once more. He heard more bones snap, and felt a different texture under his hand for a moment before it changed back.

Shit. That didn’t feel like fur.

He didn’t even know if this bunk was big enough to hold whatever she was.

He lifted her up, blankets and all, and gathered her into his arms. Her body was soft against him, her curves yielding to the hardness of his body. She was dressed in a camisole and sleep pants, her hair everywhere.

He’d dreamed of holding her again ever since their one night together, but this was not actually the stuff dreams were made of.

She thrashed weakly, groups of muscles seizing in turn. A couple more bones broke, and her limbs rippled again.

He went into the lounge and put her down on the wide couch, sliding in behind her and wrapping her in his arms, trying to calm and comfort her.

“Ashley, honey,” he said. “Come on. You can’t shift now. You have to wake up, you have to work with your animal. Ask her to go back inside. You can do it.”

“Is-Israel?” she murmured, her teeth chattering. “I feel—really sick.”

“Your animal’s trying to get out,” he said. “You have to convince her this isn’t the right time.”

She gave a choked laugh. “You have no idea.”

Three ribs snapped, and she cried out softly. He felt like his heart was breaking with them. He couldn’t stand to see her in pain.

“Don’t fight,” he said. “Ask her to cooperate with you.”

“It’s—hard,” she panted. He held on to her, feeling her skin writhing. “She hasn’t been out in so long. Too—long. My—fault. Ohhh.” She moaned again.

“It’s okay,” he said, stroking her arm. He was spooning her from behind, trying to somehow keep her animal contained. “We’ll find a time for her to come out. We’ll find a way. But this is not it.”

“I—know,” she said. “But I’m afraid, if I pass out…”

“Then stay awake,” he said. The ribs snapped again, back into place. “Can you talk to me?”

“About—what?” she asked, panting. “Politics? New trends in the world of arts and literature?”

He gave a small huff of laughter. “Don’t make fun of my lack of education, woman. The Museum of Natural Wonders and Wildlife Art was the first one I ever went to.”

“Get…out,” she said. “I don’t—believe it. You must have—ouch—in Seattle.”