I slide to a stop as a brown wolf rips free from her body just in time to intercept the colossal gray wolf that starts viciously attacking her.
I scream as I watch them tear each other apart, the sound of my fear and pain ricocheting all around me until I snap out of the memory as brutally as I was sucked into it.
I gasp, alarm and terror spilling out of me as I slam my hands to my chest and breathe through the fear. I blink, and I’m back sitting at a table with the alpha and luna, the guys, and their family—only now they’re all staring at me with concern.
Ellery, Gannon, Ruger, and Perth are instantly crouched around me, guarding and protecting me. If only they could shield me from this.
I don’t even know what to think.
“What happened?” Ellery presses, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling my focus to him. “Breathe, baby, just breathe,” he encourages as I pant through my shock and outrage.
Our gazes connect and I swallow past the lump of astonishment in my throat. “My mom was a wolf,” I rasp, and emotion starts to sting my eyes. “So was my dad,” I whimper, and I feel Ruger, Perth, and Gannon put their hands on and around me as though they’re trying to lend me their strength. “I saw him attack her. She must have gotten away somehow and took me and ran. I think she was hiding me…from him.”
26
NOAH
It’s colder in Howling Rapids than it has been since the day I stumbled into this unexpectedly deceptive eerie town. The slice of sky I can see between the blazing red maples is the muted gray that signals an impending snow storm. As if that hailstorm a few days ago wasn’t enough bad weather. Everything around me feels as though it’s holding its breath in anticipation of the first flakes. The air is crisp with a slight bite to it that feels good against my anxious, heated skin.
I’m about to shift into a wolf for the first time.
I bring my arms up and hug them to myself for a moment, though the puffy jacket I’m wearing kinda impedes my ability to self-soothe. Not that there’s really any possibility of tamping down on the anxiety churning my breakfast into a bad idea right now. I feel like I’m dangling over a boiling ocean, about to be dropped into the bubbling sea without so much as a life preserver.
Today I’m going to meet my wolf.
I pull in a deep stinging breath, the ground beneath my boots crunching with each step as I follow Perth along a path deeper into the woods. A light blanket of frost kisses the world all around me, and I start to question if shifting in this freezing weather is wise.
Maybe I can convince Perth to do this another day?
“Stop lollygagging and trying to come up with excuses to get out of this,” Perth calls over his shoulder, the same annoying smile that greeted me first thing this morning still spread across his face. Despite the weather, he’s wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, like this cold doesn’t bother him at all.
“Crap, was I projecting again?” I ask, stumbling over a frozen root and then righting myself. I’ve been trying to get better about controlling my thoughts. For the most part, I think I’ve got it down, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m leaking like a sieve right now. I’ve got bigger problems to worry about.
“Nope, not that time. It’s written plain as day across your face,” Perth confesses, and I shoot him a glare, one that he totally misses because he’s once again facing forward and not looking at me. “I saw that,” he gibes, his playful excitement riding my last nerve.
“How ’bout you see this?” I mumble, flipping him a set of double barrel birds.
He just chuckles like I’m being adorable instead of antagonistic. Then he turns toward me, slowing his pace so that we can trudge side by side. I avoid looking at the way the muted sun makes the color of his hair appear deeper and showcases those freckles I’m starting to memorize, particularly the tiny one dotting his lower lip. Ogling has no place in the midst of an anxiety attack.
Part of me wishes the other guys were here instead of running a staggered perimeter to keep me safe. But they’d all headed out with stern looks and serious swagger this morning, bound and determined to be my bodyguards while I wolf out and frolic around. The coffee I had this morning feels more like cement in my stomach, so I doubt there will be much frolicking going on today, but never say never, I guess.
“It’s going to be fine. I know you’re nervous, which is totally understandable, but I’m here. I’ve got you. This is going to be epic, I promise. Well, after the pain part, but really that lasts less than five minutes your first time…ten at the most.”
“Your pep talks suck ass,” I grump, pushing a low branch out of my way as I follow the chipper shifter to what feels like my doom.
Perth gasps with faux indignation. “My pep talks are legendary, just ask all the pack kids,” he defends. “You need something more poetic, try this classic…” He clears his throat dramatically, throwing out a hand as though he’s on some stage instead of trekking through the woods at the butt crack of dawn. “To be or not to be…who gives a shit and shift already!” He cracks up, laughing like a loon at his own ridiculously bad joke.
But, fuck me if I don’t crack a small smile at his antics.
“See!” He points at me enthusiastically, more specifically at the smile I’m doing a bad job of hiding. “Just like I said, epic.”
“I can only imagine what teenage shifters say about you behind your back,” I declare, and I roll my eyes as we reach a clearing surrounded by skeletal maples and covered in a carpet of their ruby leaves.
He snorts and stops walking. “Oh, I can hear most of it. They suck at shielding. But you wanna know a secret?” He steps in close to my side, and I catch a hint of his scent, a musky, smoky smell that softens the quaking in my belly. His breath is warm against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Irritation is a great distractor from fear.”
Then he boops me on the tip of my nose before darting to the middle of the clearing. His arms spread wide, his voice blasts across the space as though he’s a ringleader at a circus. “Noah Lupescu, are you ready for a day that’s as amazing as Christmas?”
I give him a wry look as I walk closer. “Bad example for a kid who grew up in the system. Even before that, holiday magic was no competition for time and a half pay. Single mom, you know.”
“Well, shit,” he mumbles, his happy expression immediately deflating.
“It’s fine,” I assure him with a small smile.
“It’s not fine. But for the sake of today’s life-changing exercise, we’ll let it slide…for now. Okay, no Christmas comparisons,” he observes, speaking more to himself than me. He rubs his palms together as he thinks for a second. “Tell me about your favorite memory then. A time you were so excited that you were jumping up and down because you couldn’t hold it in a second longer.”
His suggestion makes me pause, and I look over through the trees as I shuffle through my memories in search of what he’s asked for. It’s not long before I have one. “When I was sixteen, I volunteered at an animal shelter.”
I don’t dive into the why, since recalling that foster family bequeaths me with nothing more than a jumbled mess of tangled hurt. “There was this big black dog, Shadow, who growled at everyone when he came in. No one could get near him. But for some reason, he liked me. He went from scared and angry to this playful puppy. He’d be so excited to see me, and I felt the exact same way. I’d always rush off the bus, running down the sidewalk to get to him.” My eyes gloss up a tiny bit at the memory.