Books scattered across the floor. Killian giggled maniacally and kept running.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The big bad Alpha King of Ravenor, defeated by a toddler. Wen joined in, shaking her head.
“The joys of parenthood,” Wen said. “He’s got his father’s stubbornness and my energy. It’s a terrible combination.”
“I think it’s adorable,” I said.
“You say that now. Wait until he’s climbing bookshelves and trying to open portals because ‘Mommy did it once.’”
We said proper goodbyes this time. Hugs, promises to stay in touch, genuine gratitude for everything Wen and Malachar had done. Malachar finally caught Killian, holding the squirming boy on his hip while shaking Caelan’s hand.
“If you need anything,” Malachar said, “we’re here. Ravenor and Duskmere. We should be allies in this. Whatever’s coming.”
“Agreed,” Caelan said. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Take care of your mate. And yourself.”
We left Ryeville behind.
The drive back to Lysmont was easier than the drive out. The tension between us had melted away, replaced by comfortable silence and occasional conversation. Caelan reached over at one point and took my hand, and I let him hold it for the entire two hours.
Look at us. Communicating like adults. Only took an identity crisis and makeup sex to get here.
“How do you feel?” he asked eventually. “Any urge to shift? Anything unusual?”
I took stock of myself. The wolf was there, a presence in the back of my mind that I’d somehow never noticed before. But she was calm, content, not trying to claw her way out.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I can feel her. The wolf. But she’s not pushing.”
“Good. That’s good.” His thumb drew circles on the back of my hand. “The first shift is always the hardest. After that, it gets easier to control.”
“Will you teach me? How to shift properly? How to... be a wolf?”
“Of course.” His smile was soft. “I’ll teach you everything.”
We pulled into Lysmont as the sun started its descent toward the horizon. I parked outside my apartment building, feeling oddly emotional at the sight of it. Everything had changed since I left.
I’d changed. Literally. Into a different species. No big deal.
We climbed the stairs together, hand in hand. I was already thinking about a hot shower, maybe some food, definitely more of what we did last night...
I opened my apartment door and froze.
Thessa was standing in my living room.
She looked terrible, out of breath, hair disheveled, clothes askew. She’d been running, no, sprinting, for a long time. There was sweat on her brow and panic in her eyes.
“Thessa?” Caelan dropped my hand and moved toward his sister. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“You have to go back.” Thessa’s voice was urgent, panicked. “Now. Immediately.”
“Go back where? To Duskmere?”
“Yes. There’s no time to explain properly. I ran from the portal.” She doubled over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. “Father is under attack.”
Caelan’s shock, his fear, his rage, all of it slammed into me at once through the bond, so intense I actually staggered backward. I grabbed the wall, steadying myself against the onslaught of his emotions.
“Under attack by whom?” Caelan demanded. “What’s happening?”
