I did as he said, and like that the world shifted into soft focus. Normal focus. It was a relief.
“Now, if you want to see something cool, concentrate on focusing on one single thing.”
I did as he said again. I didn’t think it through. I focused on one thing. The thing standing in front of me. I focused on Jules. His face and his body sprang into clear focus. Crystal-clear focus. I could see his skin in granular detail. Every pore, every tiny blonde hair on his belly, the veins under his skin. I saw it all. I looked up at his neck and saw his Adam’s apple ride slowly up and down his throat. I heard the sound of his heartbeat. Steady. Consistent.
Doo-doof.
Doo-doof.
I looked at his face. His hair was a tangled brown mess, but I saw the way the dappled sun hit every strand, highlighting the waves in it, giving each hair on his head a life of its own. He had one eyebrow arched slightly; each tiny hair was glossy as it reflected the light. His lips were turned up with a hint of an expectant smile. They were full, and soft pink. I could make out each tiny crease in them. I was lost for a moment.
He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Neat, huh?”
To my surprise, my eyes started to water in wonder. I blinked quickly. His smile softened and his eyes looked watery, too. That was the thing about Jules. He was quick on the draw with his jokes, and he didn’t hesitate to laugh at my expense, but when shit got real, he was there. He was always there, and he understood me in ways I didn’t always understand myself.
“Beautiful,” I said.
When we got to the river, I had to scrub the mud off my skin with my nails. Jules washed himself thoroughly, but he still managed to miss a few spots on his face.
“Over here,” I said, rubbing the side of my mouth, showing him where to wash. He splashed his face again, but still managed to miss it. I waded over and splashed his face gently. I rubbed the dirt off his skin and, as I did it, I was hit by the full force of his scent. To me, Jules had always smelled good. Unshifted, he’d smelled familiar, almost like home. Shifted, he smelled very different. He smelled like muscle and bone with a little hint of spice. He smelled like something that belonged in the woods. Something wild. Something good.
“There,” I said, “all done.”
“You’ve got something in your hair.” He ran his fingers through my hair, untangling it and pulling out one or two dried leaves. He breathed in and closed his eyes, smiling as if he was sleepy. “You smell nice,” he said.
“You do, too.”
I ducked under the water then, ostensibly to rinse the shampoo from my hair, but more than that, I did it to hide how darkly I’d colored in pleasure at his words. I got out of the water soon after that and wrapped my towel tightly around my waist. I kept my back to him as I did it, trying to hide my erection from him. He had no such concerns. He walked out of the water directly toward me, with his cock leading the way. It was thick and rock solid. I looked away as quickly as I could to stop myself from honing my enhanced vision on it. I managed to do it, but only just. I wasn’t nearly so lucky when I tried to stop myself from using my new and improved olfactory senses to determine whether I could isolate the scent of his sex from the rest of him. Not even close.
“Jesus, I’m starving,” Jules said when we got back to the cabin.
My stomach growled in agreement.
He must have heard it because his lips twitched at the sound. “How about some oats? I found some when I was unpacking. It will be quick to make.”
My stomach twisted sharply. “Blegh, I dunno but I feel like I might puke if I eat oats.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I felt it as soon as I said it. How about eggs? Eggs, and a shit ton of bacon?”
My stomach growled so loudly I hardly needed to answer. I poured myself some coffee, picking the mug up and lifting it to my lips in prayerful gratitude. To my surprise, the mug exploded before I took my first sip.
“Shit!” I exclaimed.
“What happened?”
“I—I dunno. I think I might have used a little too much pressure on the mug or something.”
Jules eyed me in amused disbelief. “Damn, bruh, that’s some strength. You okay? Looks like you cut yourself.”
I looked down at the palm of my hand. There was a dark trickle of blood running along my lifeline. It wasn’t a deep cut but it was stinging, as one would expect. The pain didn’t last long. It hurt for a matter of seconds and then it started to feel scratchy and tight.
“Do you want me to see if I can find a Band-Aid?”
“Nah, I don’t think I need one.”
I held out my hand for him to see. As we watched, my skin slowly knitted itself back together. Obviously, we both knew that shifted wolves had the ability to heal. We’d grown up hearing people talking about it, and from time to time, we’d seen our parents heal. It was normal. It was to be expected. But up until that very moment, it sure as hell wasn’t normal for me. I was completely amazed, and I think Jules was, too.
