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“I know you’ll all have questions. And I intend to answer them. There have been several developments over the past several weeks that none of us expected, and I’m sure that’s left many of you feeling unsettled. But I promise you this. Sable is not now, nor will she ever be, a threat to you. I swear it on my life. I swear it on the memory of my father.”

A low murmur fills the air as people talk quietly among themselves, reacting to his words. But Ridge raises his hand again, and in a testament to his pack’s respect for him, silence falls immediately.

“I’ll hold a pack meeting soon, where you’ll be able to voice your concerns. But I meant what I said. My wolf has claimed Sable. She’s part of this pack now, just as much as any of you, and I expect her to be treated as such. For now, go back to your homes. Lawson’s challenge has been answered, and this meeting is over.”

My hand is still buried in Sable’s fur as I watch the crowd begin to disperse. I’m sure she can feel the tension powering through my body, because I can feel it in her, and see it in the way her ears perk in every direction. Ridge joins us, and we all remain silent, watching them go.

“Well,” Trystan says as the stragglers disappear into the evening. “That almost got ugly.”

Understatement of the fucking century.

23

Sable

I’m still trying to come to terms with what’s happened. A week ago, I convinced myself that I’d figure out a way to live with the witch. Archer would help me, just as he did during our time with his pack. I could make this work. I could be happy, and love these men, and just get on with my life as best I could.

And now I’m a wolf.

Not only that, but I have no fucking clue how to transform back into a human. I don’t know exactly how I shifted into wolf form in the first place, and it doesn’t seem like there’s some kind of internal switch to flip things back. None that I can sense anyway.

The more pressing issue is that now I’ll have to learn how to live with a witch and a wolf inside me.

Has this ever even happened before? How did I end up as both, when the two sides are mortal enemies? The entire situation is so insane and overwhelming that I want to curl into the dust and cry. Or at least eat an entire carton of ice cream.

But when Ridge turns to me and smiles, some of my insecurities and worries melt away. I’m not alone.

I’ll never be alone again.

“You okay?” he asks softly, kneeling so that we’re eye level.

If I were in my human form, I’d probably burst into tears. Instead, I snuffle and whine, then press my body into his chest in a strange, wolfish version of a hug. His intoxicating scent is so mu

ch sharper to my wolf nose. He smells like he belongs to me.

God, this is insane.

“Come on,” he says, trailing his fingers through the fur behind my ears. “We’ll get you inside, then help you shift back.”

I lean into his hand, urging him to keep petting me, and all four men chuckle. I glare at them, but I’m not sure it carries any weight with a wolf’s face.

It feels like a hundred years have passed since Ridge brought me to his cabin the night I ran away from Uncle Clint. We walk down the street, all four men naked and flanking me like my own army guard. This is all so utterly bonkers, I feel like I’m living inside a dream.

I can pick Ridge’s house out of the others in the neighborhood easily. He ushers us inside, and I’m surprised to see the cabin doesn’t smell musty and disused in our absence. Probably because of Amora watching out for the things Ridge cares about.

I wonder briefly how she feels about the chain of events that took place this evening, but the sight of Ridge’s old corduroy couch chases away all coherent thought. I clamber up onto the cushions, still kind of awkward on my unwieldy paws, and sink against the cushions.

“She’s like a brand new pup,” Trystan says with a grin, eyeing me as I sprawl out gracelessly with my nose on the armrest and all four legs akimbo.

“Oh, leave her alone.” Archer rolls his eyes, although amusement shines in their moss-green depths too. “She’s getting a later start than most.”

He kneels down in front of me, and the magic shimmers over him until his blond wolf is regarding me from the floor.

How you feeling? he asks.

His voice is inside my head, the words coming to me as clearly as if he’d spoken them out loud. It’s not any less weird the second time around.

Freaked out, I admit, going for candid honesty.

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