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He tapped a few buttons on his phone when we stopped at the next light, and the electronic voice announced that we were heading to a hiking trail whose name I didn’t recognize. I shot him a confused look, stress still coursing through me.
“Why are we hiking?” I asked. My voice came out strangled, and angry.
“I’ve got to shift.” His voice was rougher, and also angry. “I’m sorry.”
The words didn’t match his tone, but I thought the wolf might be to blame for that.
My own had been quiet. I didn’t know why, but she hadn’t tried to make a scene in the diner—unlike Zed’s, apparently.
More panic swelled in my chest, though.
I had ruined everything between us, hadn’t I?
“You’re not angry with me, right? I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did. I was just—”
His hand landed on my thigh for a moment, and he squeezed lightly. “Nothing that happened in that diner was your fault, June. I’m pissed that the bastard put his hand on you, and my wolf is furious that I stopped him from ripping the guy’s throat out. You did nothing wrong.” Despite the gravel in his voice, I could tell he meant the words, and some of my panic abated. His hand lifted back to the steering wheel, and he repeated gruffly, “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the first time he apologized, but I still knew he meant it.
“Me too.” I leaned my head against the window as I lifted my thighs to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.
The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable, either.
Fifteen minutes later, we were parking in an empty dirt lot, surrounded by trees.
“I’m sorry,” Zed repeated for the third time, stepping out of the truck without turning it off. His shirt hit the front seat, and the rest of his clothes quickly followed. His shoes landed on the floor of the still-running truck, and then his bare ass was jogging down the trail. Even with the doors closed, I heard the awful crack of his spine echo through the air as he started to change somewhere out of my sight.
I watched the empty trail, my emotions still an absolute wreck. My wolf was silent, for a moment, and then ripped at my bones and muscles.
I gasped, throwing my door open and stumbling outside.
She wasn’t easing up on me. Not at all.
“Dammit, wolf,” I cried out, tugging at my shirt.
I managed to get it and the rest of my clothes off, before she stole control entirely.
A scream pierced the air as my body contorted. I tried to relax, to give her control, but with my heart pounding and my body already in flight-mode, it was a struggle.
Soft fur brushed my cheek just after I crashed to the ground, managing to land on shaky hands and knees. Zed’s wolf was there with me, then.
Tears tracked down my face. They weren’t tears of physical pain—they were tears of frustration, and embarrassment, and sadness.
Zed’s wolf nuzzled me through every painful step of the transformation, making noises that I thought were probably supposed to be comforting. When my wolf had finally taken hold completely, a numb quiet surrounded me. I didn’t have a word for wherever the hell I was while she was in control—limbo?
I didn’t know.
She nuzzled his wolf, and he nudged her toward the hiking trail. Their paws hit the dirt as they walked slowly together, their sides practically connected. They weren’t in a rush, both of them seeming calm, though Zed’s wolf nudged mine, sniffed her face and neck, and licked at her head every couple of seconds.
He was a little clingy, but she seemed to get a kick out of that. Or at least tolerate it. I assumed if she didn’t like it, she’d growl at him or something.
Without my physical body to hit me over the head with adrenaline and whatever other hormonal shit made my stress shoot upward, I was feeling much more at peace with what had happened.
Though even without my wolf form, I was still horribly embarrassed by the reason Stewart had given for cheating. And more horribly ashamed that I’d trusted him, and thought he was a good guy.
How could my judgment have been so skewed?
I liked to think that I’d gotten better at that shit, but it wasn’t like there was any evidence to support that belief.
And I didn’t know what to do about that, or what to think about it.
