Jericho shouts an order, and someone drags a deceased wolf away. I can’t focus on any of it. The air is too thick now, too hot. The smell of burning flesh is everywhere. I feel it clinging to me, crawling under my skin.
I shake my head. I can’t be here. No, I can’t. They’re going to lock me away.
Rowen whimpers, his gaze finding me in the dark. He’s pleading with me, confused, but I’m frozen—my chest too tight, my skin too hot. Too wrong. The fox takes over again before I can stop it.
I bolt.
Shame fills me, quickly followed by sadness. Everyone looks at me like I’m a monster as I tear across the field. Maybe I am. I hurt dozens. Maybe even killed some.
But I killed Rip.
My breath catches. I can’t decide if it’s relief or horror twisting my gut. Is he really gone? Is it really over?
The fox stirs again. He wants to keep moving, keep running until the scent fades. But at the same time, I can’t abandon my mate. I need to make sure Rowen’s alive, to tell him I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t mean tochokehim.
My legs don’t cooperate. I curl under a bush and hide my face with my tail.
Gods. What will Rowen think about all this? Will he hate me even more now? Not only did I try to kill him, but I may have killed some of his pack. His friends. I can’t even remember attacking them, only that I did.
I’m so sorry, Rowen.
A long time passes—hours maybe—until I hear a soft rustle in the forest behind me. My body stiffens, instincts screaming to flee. But a warm, gentle tug at my heart steadies me.
Rowen.
I can feel him before I see him, his presence, heavy and steady, brushing the edge of my mind like a heartbeat. That’s new. He’s never been in my mind like that before. Only the tether at my heart. Because of Rip, maybe? Or maybe it’s a shifter thing?
I crawl out from under the bush, and there he is, padding between the trees like a massive shadow. His dark eyes lock on me, making me shudder and fold. I curl up, unsure of what to expect.
He’s far more beautiful than I remember. And far more terrifying, towering over me like a dangerous statue.
He takes a slow step forward, as if trying not to spook prey. Which—let’s be honest—is exactly what I look like to him. I’m not even a third of his size.
Hey, beautiful.
His voice tickles the edges of my mind again, and I shake my head, pawing at my ears.
Rowen chuckles softly.It’ll feel weird at first. You’ll get used to it. It’s how shifters speak. Just think your words and I’ll hear them.
I stare at him, dumbfounded.You… came for me?
He stops only a few feet away.Of course I came. You really thought I wouldn’t?
I lower my head, ears flat.I hurt your family, Ro. Friends. I hurt… you.Nearly killed you, is what I don’t say.
That wasn’t you, Toby. You and I both know that. The pack knows that. And what you did in that fight wasn’t hurting anyone. You were protecting us. It’s over. Rip is dead. You’re free.
He must not’ve seen me attacking the wolves, then.
As he moves closer, his scent wraps around me like a warm blanket—fresh pine, warm cinnamon, and something that just feels like home. It short-circuits everything logical in me. My tail flicks in a gentle wag.
Every movement seems to cost him as Rowen leans down and touches his muzzle to my forehead. The contact wrecks me. I make a broken sound, somewhere between a sob and a chitter, and press into him before I can stop myself.
I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m so, so sorry, Rowen. I never meant—
Shh. It’s okay.He nuzzles me gently, rumbling low in his chest. It vibrates through my whole body, grounding me. I circle around him, rubbing against his legs.
Rowen lowers himself to the ground, and I instantly curl against his ribs. He winces, pain flaring through our bond.
