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The shift took me hard. I tried to focus on the scene in front of me, three dozen wolves toppled simultaneously by the change, the power of two Alphas making it impossible for them to resist their animal forms.
I struggled, but the magic clawed me under. I was trying to surface, trying to grab at humanity, but the wolf inside me was done listening to my rules. I’d kept her buried deep for decades, and she wanted out. Now. Her kings were calling her. A pack command was too great. It mattered more to her than my desire to stay human.
Her king had said come.
And by God she would obey.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I screamed, but it was pointless.
I fought, but one simply cannot fight against themselves.
My spine cracked, driving me to all fours, and my shoulder dislocated, twisting backwards. This torturous buckling was mirrored by my hips until my legs were bent in the wrong direction. Fingers and toes grew and burst from my skin, not as bones but as claws. I screamed again, and my jaws split the moment I opened my mouth, turning my wailing into a wet gurgle.
I expected it to hurt because the memory of past pain told me what was happening should be excruciating. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fun, but the discomfort wasn’t unbearable. And once I stopped fighting, it went faster, with more fluidity and grace.
Seconds ticked away, and when I opened my eyes, the world had gone grayscale.
I tested my feet, unaccustomed to using four of them, but the wolf was riding me now and not vice versa. She had control, and she knew what she was doing.
Free, she whispered.
Yes, I suppose she was.
Lucas—his wolf form as beautiful as his human form—came to me then and rubbed his head under my muzzle. He gave a bark, as if to say I told you so.
I nipped his cheek. He flashed his impressive teeth at me.
The pack shook the last dregs of humanity off themselves and went about smelling and licking and play-biting. I sat back on my haunches and watched, amazed I could still understand it from a human perspective. I guess I should have been grateful to my wolf for letting me ride shotgun.
Run, she commanded. Must run.
I got to all fours again, my body a coiled spring, tense with energy. Callum yipped at Lucas, and the two kings took off, running with an uncomplicated joy into the woods. My wolf howled, a high, pure, thrilling sound. One by one the pack joined us, until we all sang in chorus.
Then we ran.
My claws dug into the soft ground, tearing up chunks of moss as I charged forward. Wolves streamed past me. So many wolves, and all of them so big. Their coats were a rainbow of grays to my new eyes. We followed Callum and Lucas, but everyone did it in their own way, chasing zigzag paths through the underbrush.
Free, my wolf sang. Free, free, free.
That freedom was more addictive than any drug, more pure and beautiful than love itself. I’d never felt anything as sweet and rich as the joy my wolf felt running among the pack. Why had I kept this from myself for so long? What kind of fool denied themselves such perfection?
Yes, she whispered. Be wild.
And from the passenger seat I let her have her way.
One moment we were within the ranks of the pack, and the next she veered left and into the darkness. Only there wasn’t darkness. Every tree glowed faintly, every object visible as if outlined in the light of the moon for our eyes.
But where the hell were we going?
Be wild.
Yes, but couldn’t we be wild with the rest of the pack?
My wolf growled and ran on.
No, this was wrong. This defied common sense.
