Thenightisdarkand still. The sky is blanketed with thick clouds but I can still sense the waning moon sailing high above them. It’s just a tingling awareness of her presence. Her call shouldn’t interfere with anything tonight.
“Here is as good a spot as any,” I tell Fitz as we reach a clearing in the woods.
I start to strip and he snatches his gaze away.
“You need to get naked too,” I tell him. “You can’t shift with your clothes on.”
Well, technically you can, but it’s a terrible waste of perfectly good clothes. I’m sure he gets the idea. A lack of intelligence is not one of his flaws.
He shoots me a baleful glance but starts undressing. He copies me and hangs his clothes on a low hanging tree branch.
Then he stands in front of me with his hands covering his cock. Like I haven’t seen it before, like I haven’t touched it before. I’ve not tasted it though, and that seems like a shame. I grimace at the thought. Why would I want to suck the cock of a murder? But I can picture the way he would writhe and buck, I can almost hear the way he would moan.
Gritting my teeth, I drag my thoughts out of the gutter. We are here to shift, nothing more.
I stare at Fitz and realize that I’ve never helped anyone to shift before. He is watching me expectantly and I swallow dryly. How do I explain something that should be like breathing to him? It’s just something you do.
“You need to let out your wolf,” I say and then wince. Yeah, that’s not going to be very helpful. “The part of you that wants to howl at the moon, loves to eat, snuggle and smell things,” I try again.
Emerald eyes stare at me in bewilderment. All around us the nighttime forest creatures chirp and buzz. A gentle breeze stirs the leaves. Fitz looks like a shifter, he smells like one, but he doesn’t have a clue what I’m on about.
I stare at him a moment longer, as if I can telepathically impart my knowledge of shifting. I need to get my shit together. Some of the pack pups are pre-teens and I can’t leave all the work to Callum. I have a responsibility. It’s important that I figure out how to do this.
Taking a deep breath, I place my hand in the middle of Fitz’s chest. He flinches and I hate it. I also hate how the feel of his warm, soft skin sends tingles along my fingers. Pushing all of that aside, I concentrate on the feel of his heartbeat. Strong, a little fast, but steady.
“Imagine yourself in wolf form,” I tell him. “Imagine yourself covered in fur. Imagine having paws.” Suddenly I stop. “You have partially shifted before.”
He stares at me like I’m crazy.
“You scratched my back up on the full moon. Your claws came out.”
His green eyes grow huge and his mouth drops open. It’s hard to see in the dark but I’m pretty sure there is color in his cheeks.
“Sorry!” he gasps.
I grin, “It’s okay, I liked it.”
He is definitely blushing now. I’m sure even a human would see it despite the dim lighting.
“So you can do it,” I add.
That was why I brought it up. To reassure him. Not to embarrass him and not because standing here alone with him, is making it hard to get those images out of my head.
“Let’s give it a go,” I say, and I hope he hasn’t noticed how hoarse my voice is.
He nods and closes his eyes. A look of concentration on his beautiful face. There is something so trusting in that gesture, it makes my guts twist. I start to concentrate too. I can sense him trying to reach for his wolf, but his wolf is buried deep. So I pull it out of its metaphorical den and then shove Fitz’s consciousness towards it. I feel like a kid smooshing two toys together to make them kiss. It works. I feel the moment they collide.
Suddenly wolf Fitz is at my feet. He is small and very pale in coloring, but still showing the markings of a Grey Wolf. His eyes are still vivid green. He stares up at me and whines.
Then he scuttles backwards in a flailing tangle of limbs until he hits a tree. He yelps and tears off into the night.
Sighing, I shift and chase after him. He is yelping and stumbling and crashing into everything. I don’t think it’s usual to panic at your first shift, but I’m not sure what I can do about it except try to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.
He trips over his own paw and goes tumbling down an incline, yelping all the while. He lands in an undignified sprawl and pants for a moment, looking completely dazed. Suddenly he is off again. Crashing through the undergrowth. I can’t call it running. It’s more like he is just throwing his body forward.
I follow him for a while, waiting for him to calm down. Suddenly I realize he is heading straight for the road. My heart hammers in my chest. I pick up my pace. Despite his chaotic falling and stumbling, he is surprisingly fast. I can hear a car coming. It seems like it’s approaching at the perfect speed to hit Fitz at the precise moment he is going to reach the road.
I lurch forward and grab a mouthful of his ruff, yanking him away by the scruff of his neck, just as the car whizzes past close enough to ruffle my fur. I pull him back into the woods, away from the road.
