Gods, I wish he didn’t make me feel like such a puppy.
Grae turned and left down the passageway before I could summon the courage to move.
“I’ll see you outside.”
Part of me was excited when Sadie and Hector hung back, but now, being along with Grae . . . There was too much there between us, too many unsaid things. It made me feel unsteady, second-guessing my every word and action. And I wished then that I had some of Briar’s confidence. She’d have known exactly how to act.
An impatient howl echoed into the cavern.
The sound called to the most primal part of me, and the shift took me by surprise. With a sweet pain and sharp release, I fell onto all fours. I whirled in a circle, looking at my swishing red tail. Never had something triggered the shift in me like that. It had come on so fast I couldn’t even think, the Wolf in me instantly reacting to his howl. I loved and hated it all at once, that my body could react to him so acutely. I felt out of control and a strange belonging all at the same time. All those contradictory feelings battled within me, trying to make sense of this white-hot burning in my gut.
I shoved it all down. I’d make sense of it later. Right now, I needed to run.
I bolted out of the wave of ice, shooting like an arrow through the powder. I didn’t stop to look at Grae as I zoomed around the lip of the crater, leaning into the slope with delight, letting gravity propel me faster.
“You think you can outrun me, little fox?” Grae’s playful voice whispered into my mind.
The connection between us now felt stronger than ever. I felt him in every cell of my body—his voice, his scent.
“You might be bigger, but I’m faster,” I taunted, zipping through the swirling steam from the hot pools.
Grae’s chuckle skittered through me and I felt him pick up the pace as if it was my own legs burning. I pushed harder into my haunches. The feeling of the wind in my fur and the powder beneath my paws was something close to ecstasy. The bruises and weariness from the battle in Nesra’s Pass lifted and the sudden absence of pain was euphoric. This moment—there was a rightness to it all. Grae chased me just as he had when we were young. A giddy laugh filled me as he drew closer, nipping at my ankles. His muzzle knocked me in the side and I lost my footing, tumbling into the snow.
“Oh, you are so dead,” I teased, his laughter filling my mind. I whirled on him as he bolted in the opposite direction.
In five strides, I caught up to him and sank my teeth into his flank. Yelping, he turned to get me back, but I was already dashing away.
“You’re faster than a snow snake,” he panted, taking off after me again.
My muscles grew heavy, filled with a pleasant burning as I raced through the snow. My heart thundered in my chest. On and on, the minutes stretched by with nothing but my panting breath and the snow beneath my paws. With each passing moment, I felt Grae fall a little further behind.
“Time to slow down, little fox,” Grae panted. “You’re going to pull something and I don’t want to have to carry you down this mountain.”
Our Wolves could walk for days on end, but we weren’t distance sprinters. Our bodies were designed for short bursts of action and long stretches at a slower pace. But I pushed myself right to the brink of pain, relishing the all-consuming feeling of it. In my Wolf form, everything else felt miles away. I was so in my body and out of my mind. I ran as if my troubles were chasing me—Briar, King Nero, even Grae.
“Don’t be a puppy,” I jeered, pushing harder, zigzagging along a patch of slippery ice before plunging back into the snow.
“Seriously, Calla.”
I ran faster, as if I could avoid his words, and I knew he chased after me in earnest then. I couldn’t stop. The comedown was not something I wanted to face. Let me pretend nothing else existed for a little while longer.
Grae barreled into me, knocking me into a deep snowbank. I growled as I shook the powder from my fur. I met his golden eyes and finally really looked at him.
His fur was a brilliant shade of silver, tipped with black. Obsidian ears and a muzzle and tail that faded to a shade of midnight. He looked regal even in his fur. He had always been that breathtaking, even when we were young. But his lanky body had bulked out in muscle just as his human form had. He was in his prime now, his presence more dominating, his scent more alluring.
“I thought you might never look at me again.” His voice was a whisper in my head. “You are just as stunning in your furs as you are in your skin, little fox.”
“Thanks,” I breathed.