Grayson narrows his eyes. "How long does it take you to shift?"
Mona shoots me a sharp look, making me wince. "He needed to know," I say guiltily. "Not just as your mate, but as Lune.You're here now, in our clan. That means you're under his protection. He needs to know when one of his wolves needs help."
It may not be the human way, but it's how shifters operate. We support each other, it's the whole point of the hierarchy.
"Well, Grayson," she says icily, "it's none of your business."
He ignores that. "I was told five minutes. Has it always been like that? I want you to write a chronological account of all your shifting activities. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."
He powers through without pausing for her to recalibrate, which seems to help because she has some sort of internal debate—speaking with her wolf again?—then finally shrugs, rolls her eyes, and says, "Fine. Whatever."
That was fast. Honestly, I expected more anger. Glaring, at least. She continues, "In the last six months I've been a wolf? Yes, it's always been like that."
"How often do you practice?"
Mona hums, propping her chin in her hand again. "Not every day. Depends where we were staying, if it felt unsafe. She's stronger, obviously, but gets tired easily, so we moved around a lot, stuck to the suburbs. Fewer wolves there." She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve, trying to calm her voice. "They always hunted us. Tried to capture and... do things to us. To me."
A knot forms in my gut, hot and tight, as I picture her out there, alone and vulnerable. My fingers twitch with the need to track down every wolf who ever laid a hand on her, to make them pay.
I try to rein in my anger, but Grayson's alpha snarls, his rage flooding to the surface—his massive hands clench into white-knuckled fists, and his energy pulses out at us.
I love Grayson. He's my best friend, my brother, and that raw alpha dominance is the backbone, the fucking safety net of our clan. But since Mona's arrival, he's a goddamn powder keg.
Mona pales, then coughs, like his scent is too much. But she's kind, my mate, because instead of mocking our protective instincts with sarcasm or calling us overbearing—she simply changes the subject, her voice deliberately lighter.
"Beep says I don't let her practice enough. And that's probably true. We haven't had a good place to do that."
"Until now."
Mona smirks. "Yeah, yeah. You're all on the same team, don't worry. She wants me to practice. Says ourperfect mates will protect us." She waves it off like the sentiment doesn't land like an anvil in my gut.
Grayson is just as stunned, but he clears his throat and powers forward. "That is definitely a more complex emotion than I experience with my wolf. I get feelings from him. As a shifter, you can sense when your animal half wants something or has an opinion. They have sway over us as we do them. We're the same being yet separate at the same time, two sides of the same coin. I suspect your methods of communication saved you on the road just as much as her physical strength and your quick thinking."
Mona blushes. She's trying not to smile, but her body language shifts. A little more toward me, a little more toward him. She's softening. Like a fucking glacier, but it's happening.
But then Gray opens his idiot mouth and keeps talking. This is why he has a second, and why I always travel with him to diplomatic events when meeting with other packs and clans. Because he's a fucking bulldozer with the subtly of a sledgehammer.
"My concern is that you aren't hearing her, but hearing a reflection of yourself. Is it possible you're feeling her desires and misinterpreting them as your own?"
"I'm not crazy," Mona snaps. I reach out and touch her shoulder, but she shrugs out of my grip. One step forward… two fucking leaps back.
"I'm sure that's not what he meant." I glare at Grayson. "Right?"
"I'm not saying you're crazy, Mona. I'm saying, we've never heard of a wolf having an actual conversation with their human. Or any animal shifter for that matter. I'm trying to get in touch with Kendrick to find out more, but we'd have heard of something like this. For now, I'm concerned about what's actually going on in your head."
"You never believe me!" Mona shouts, coming to a stand but falling forward, forgetting the seat is attached to the table.
Gray puts up his hands. "We haven't had enough conversations for me toneveranything. I'm just trying to make sense of this, so we can help you."
"Because nothing about me makes sense?"
"Don't put words in my mouth."
"Then don't be a dick."
Jesus, I've never needed this much fucking patience. "Alright, both of you, chill the fuck out," I snap.
Then I freeze. I can't believe I just spoke to my mate like that.
