She nodded, silent, and stared straight ahead as I drove us home. The world outside blurred, but I kept my hand in hers the whole way, refusing to let go.
Chapter 14
Krystal
In the hush before sunrise,I stood with my hands jammed in my hoodie, watching the pack gather in ones and twos at the edge of a clearing.
The run was supposed to be for the kids. Every first Saturday, Nathan and a half-dozen grown wolves put on a show for the ones too young to shift. The ritual was as much for the adults, though, because letting our wolves run and play with the kids created bonds and trust. A health pack built on love. A way to remind ourselves we still belonged to something bigger than a mortgage and a car payment.
I was always the first to arrive, unless Nathan beat me to it. Today, he loomed at the center of the clearing, a silhouette of squared shoulders and dad jeans, jaw already set in that I-am-the-alpha way he tried and failed to disguise as laid back. His daughter, Elle, trailed him in wolf form, already barking at the younger ones to line up. Elle had her first shift a few months ago.
Behind me, Bryce’s sneakers crunched gravel. He came pelting out of the brush with three more kids, all of them high on a pre-run sugar rush. My son led the charge, face flushed and freckled,his favorite baseball tee already streaked with sap and who knew what else. He didn’t see me until he was almost at the clearing, then doubled back, nearly falling in his hurry.
"Mom! Did you see me? I was first!" He threw himself at my waist, all knees and elbows.
"You tripped twice," I said, ruffling his hair, "but you stuck the landing. I’m proud."
He grinned, then darted away, too much energy for one human body.
Around the perimeter, parents and a couple of grandparent wolves clustered in their flannels and running shoes, a parade of rugged outdoor-catalog rejects. I clocked Rissa and Tavi near the fallen log, both coffee-cupped and judging the crowd with synchronized head-tilts. Tavi wore a vintage bomber and floral Doc Martens, her laugh interrupting the quiet. Rissa had on paint-spattered leggings and the kind of ancient, pilled sweatshirt only a teacher could wear without irony. They waved me over.
Nathan caught my look and gave a chin-jerk of acknowledgement. The run would start soon. I jogged over to Rissa and Tavi, slipping into the old rhythm.
"Hey, Krys!" Rissa said. "You look like you actually slept last night."
"Maybe an hour. I have the coffee shakes to prove it." I flopped down next to her, the log cold against my ass. "How’s the classroom?"
She made a face. "Chaos, but I love every minute of it."
Tavi shot her a sidelong glance. "Says the woman who painted her entire living room instead of grading science projects."
"I can multitask," Rissa protested.
Bryce bellowed from the center of the clearing, "Mom! Are you coming or what?"
Nathan was calling the kids to order, and the grownups were starting to circle up.
"Go on," Tavi said, nudging me. "I’ll keep your spot warm."
I wriggled out of my jeans and hoodie in three efficient moves. Around me, other adults did the same, some more modest than others. No one here cared about nudity. Being shifters, the pre-shift strip-down was as ritualized as grace before a meal. Clothes folded, boots lined up, jewelry stashed in plastic bags for after.
Bryce hovered, vibrating with anticipation. "Can I ride on your back today? Can I? Please?"
I knelt, kissed the tip of his nose, and whispered, "Only if you hang on tighter than last time."
He solemnly stuck out his pinkie. "Promise."
With the sun lifting over the treetops, the clearing filled with a low, murmuring energy. Some of the wolves had been up all night. Some carried the weight of work, arguments, or the kind of heartbreak that never left, not even in a world with magic and pack and tradition. But when the time came, the only thing that mattered was the change.
It started with Nathan, as always. He planted his feet, stretched his neck, and let the shift take him. His skin rippled, hair flowed,and bones rearranged with a series of deep pops, the air around him vibrating with old, wild power.
One by one, the others followed. The older kids who could shift first, then the adults. Some made a show of it. Some just blinked and let the wolf come forward, smooth and silent as breathing. When it was my turn, I found my footing, shut my eyes, and let go.
My heart stuttered, then caught. My skin burst with silver, and my jaw realigned, teeth lengthening, nose flattening, the world reshaping itself around sound and scent. I opened my eyes, and the world was perfect.
I shook out my fur, muscles pulsing under the surface, every sense dialed up to eleven. All the usual human junk, taxes, texts, last night’s argument with Bryce about bedtime, faded out, and the pack became everything.
Bryce climbed onto my back, fisting my fur at the top of my shoulders.
