All three wolves leveled straight back at him the same look he’d just given Aaron. This time the history filling the space between them was their knowledge of Malachi—as friend, as leader, as the pup he’d been and the man he’d become.
“Now’s not the time to go all third-person burden-carrier, Mal,” Ezra said with level force, as though he hadn’t ducked in deference a few seconds ago. “Won’t you be fully healed after the next full moon?”
“I will,” Malachi said without hesitation.
“So in the meantime—it’s twenty-three lousy days. For twenty-three days, please just let the pack carry some things.”
Malachi growled at him, a throatier sound that held warning.
“Right, okay. I think of all of us, you’re the most predictable.” Ezra stepped up to the bed and gripped Malachi’s shoulder. His deep green eyes glossed for a moment. “And I’m really freaking glad you’re not dead.”
Malachi grasped Ezra’s arm, and then Ezra stepped back, blinking hard, and left the room. Trevor stepped close too, mirrored his brother’s gesture, and Malachi grasped his arm in turn.
“Feels like it should be mentioned that you accessed your wolf form at will,” Trevor said.
“In extremis,” Malachi said.
“I know, but the way it smelled to me, your wolf responded to April’s voice while you were still…leashing, for lack of a better word.”
Malachi looked away from him toward the far wall. For a long moment he was quiet. Then he met Trevor’s eyes. “I was in control, even as I began losing consciousness.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Trevor said. “And the second you stopped leashing yourself, your wolf form wasright there. So if that’s true, I don’t understand how…how you’ve never changed without the moon before. You’ve been a wolf for almost twenty years, and you’ve never released that control.”
“It isn’t a secret I’ve been keeping,” Malachi said, his voice rasping so harshly it sounded like sandpaper in his throat. April squeezed his hand. He was struggling to talk about this; she felt it. “April told me it was possible, and I told her she was mistaken.”
“But how? Were you controlling your wolf for all these years…unconsciously?”
“I believe so, yes.”
Trevor shook his head. “Like I said, you really are unbelievable. My vote? Let go of that leash again. I think you’d heal the rest of the way. It’s worth a try.”
When Trevor left, Aaron and Malachi eyed each other for a long moment.
“I don’t advise you to try changing form right now,” Aaron said.
“I don’t plan to.”
“Well, once you’re stronger—”
“No.”
“No?” April said.
Malachi turned to her. “April, the wolf was too weak to be dangerous. I can’t guarantee it would happen that way again.”
“You wagged your tail at me,” she said.
He blinked. Stared at her as if she’d just spoken in Latin.
Aaron turned away, a hand covering his smile in such an obvious gesture he clearly wanted his amusement known.
“I’m not saying you’d be safe for the general public. But your wolf reacted gladly to the sight of me, and I don’t believe for a minute that you’d ever harm one of your pack—in either of your forms. I think Gigi and Tori could ride on the golden wolf’s back and be perfectly safe.”
Before either wolf could respond—Aaron looked as though he had a definite opinion on this—Robert re-entered the room carrying a large gray backpack.
“From Rhett.”
Malachi released April’s hand to push up from the pillows, then sank down again. “That’s not Rhett’s.”
