Before he could finish, I slapped his other cheek just as hard. He squealed and hopped up and down two or three times, squeezing his cheeks together. He looked fucking adorable. He looked so sexy my gums started to itch.
“What the hell was that for?”
I leaned in close, so close, I could almost have kissed him. “Oh, you know, just evening you out.”
He grumbled as he walked, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh.
I didn’t speak on the walk home. I couldn’t. Both his ass cheeks had bloomed bright pink in the shape of my handprint. I walked behind him and let myself hyper-focus on the perfection that was his milky white ass. I watched, transfixed as his cheeks moved up and down with each step he took. The fact his flesh was pink from my touch gratified and inflamed me. He bore my handprint. My mark. The sight of it fueled a lust in me unlike anything I’d ever felt. As I watched him walk, I thought about him on his knees. I thought about his legs spread and I thought about my dick inside him.
That was what I thought about.
That was what I wanted.
It felt like that was all I’d ever wanted, and it felt like that was all I’d ever want for the rest of my life.
The day passed in a haze. I’m not entirely sure what we did with our time. I seem to remember going fishing again at some point. I was having a hard time thinking straight. Jules was talking a lot and I was struggling to follow what he was saying.
We sat on the logs around the fire pit and watched the moon rise as evening drew in. The moon was swollen and full. Heavy. Ripe. I felt the same way. The shift came upon me suddenly. It felt almost like the first shift. Like I didn’t have a whole lot of say in the matter. My run that night was different, too. It felt more like a shifting dream than reality. Just like the dreams, that night I felt one thing. One thing, only.
Rage.
Hot, burning rage.
As I ran, the trees and the branches flashed past me in a blur. The forest was alive with sounds of alarm. Every living thing seemingly aware that I was in play. That I was there. That I was a danger to them. That I was there to deliver what I was made for: death and destruction. And deliver it, I did. I unleashed nothing short of carnage. I was a predator and everything in my way was prey. I was hungry. Insatiable. The night felt unending. It went on and on. In fact, it was still going on when I became distantly aware of something. A sound. A word. It was strangely familiar. It sounded like something I’d heard before. It was already light. I was at the river, quenching my thirst when I heard it.
“Sully.”
I looked up and snarled when I saw the shape of a man. It took me a second to register that it was Jules. It took me even longer to register that I was me. “Sully, it’s over,” he said. “The moon’s waning. The night is over. It’s daytime. You need to shift back.”
I blinked at him for several long moments.
“I’m serious, Sully. You need to shift backnow.”
There was an edge in his voice and my wolf didn’t like it.
You don’t control me, it snapped, and I stepped forward toward him.
As I did it, my vision brightened. The whole world snapped into sharp focus. Jules crouched down onto his haunches, so that we were eye to eye. I could see the whites of his eyes, and I liked it. He held his hands out, palms outstretched, where I could see them. “Sully,” he said gently, “your eyes . . . there’s . . . look at your eyes, Sully. You need to see them.”
There was something so earnest and soothing about the way he said it, my wolf was unoffended and was happy enough to listen. I took a step or two toward the bank of the river and gazed down at my reflection in the water. I was pitch back. Black as the night. My wolf’s dark pelt was broken only by a white crest on my chest. My fur was matted with blood. It was the first time I’d seen myself as a wolf. It was such a surprise to see myself like that, it took me a second to hone in on my eyes. When I did, I leapt back in shock, shifting and falling on my ass as I did it.
“Jesus, fuck!” I grabbed my head in both hands, covering and then uncovering my eyes. “Is it gone?”
Jules tilted my face toward his and he shook his head. I blinked hard. His face was the picture of disbelief. I felt the same. I knew exactly what he was seeing. I’d seen it too: narrow gold striations, glowing, lit from within. Gold bleeding into ice blue. I knew what it meant. Jules knew, too. There were no exceptions. Only an alpha wolf’s eyes lit up from inside. Everyone knew that.
Everyone.
I was quiet for a long time. My head had started to pound. My first thought was of my dad and the mug I’d made for him when I was nine. I thought about how happy he’d looked when he unwrapped it and saw the words I’d painted on it—being a beta is the best thing to be. I thought about how he’d look when he realized I wasn’t a beta. I knew he’d be disappointed. I knew that for the first time in my life, I’d be a disappointment to him. My second thought was of Dalton. It wasn’t a thought so much as it was a feeling. A feeling of fury. His views and his doctrine were madness. It was madness; that was what it was. It was absolute madness to think you could ever help people by hiding the information they needed. Information that pertained directly to them. I should have known this was a possibility. I should have known what to expect. I should have been prepared.
Jules put his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into his chest and whispered, “Do you think this is why I’ve been such a douche?”
He let out a short laugh. “You’re not a douche, Sully.”
“I must be. All alphas are.”
“Not you. You’ll be different. You’ll see.”
My shoulders slumped. I liked what he was saying, but I wasn’t sure I could believe it.
