Again.
Chapter 8
ROWAN
After breakfast, I went right back to my room, claiming I was “stomach-achingly full” as an excuse, which apparently Iris took as a compliment to her syrup-to-batter pancake ratio she recommended. She even waved me off with a flourish like she’d just cured the common cold and chaos in one meal.
Now, several hours later, I’ve gotten acquainted with the joys of breaking bones and animalistic tendencies.
Thesuperfun things to look forward to now that I apparently have a wolf inside me.
The book Liz left on my nightstand is basicallyWolf Shifter 101: So You’ve Sprouted a Tail, complete with hand-drawn illustrations and footnotes that are either mildly threatening or accidentally erotic—I honestly can’t tell which.
I’m halfway through the chapter, which might as well be titled“Managing the First Shift Without Screaming (Much)”when I seriously consider setting the pages onfire and just winging this new life like a feral raccoon. Because apparently, before the first transformation involves enough excruciating pain to rival full-body electrocution, a sudden craving for red meat, and a possible side-effect of emotions that swing harder than a caffeinated toddler on a jungle gym.
So far, I’m checking two out of three.
I close the book with a groan and flop back against the pillows, stomach growling like it wants to pick a fight with the fridge.
“I could devour a whole cow,” I mutter to the ceiling, which does not care. Or does it…
The tiles blur and then create an image of a motherfreaking cow.
“How about a starry night?” I say next because it’s the most logical thing I can think of that belongs above me.
Another shimmer and sure enough, the constellations are alive and well, right inside this bedroom.
All right then. At least not everything here wants to kill me.
As I’ve so often done since arriving here, I remind myself that maybe I should have been more grateful for my life that no longer exists.
One where I was blissfully ignorant of wolfie things and only slightly aware that there was more out in the world waiting for me. Though if I’d known just how much was waiting out here…
Sigh. I could’ve lived out my days eating drive-thru tacos and pretending my weird dreams were just theresult of binge-watching supernatural dramas. But nope. Fate had other plans—ones with claws, cryptic grandmothers, and rogue wolves who look like they’ve stepped out of a fictional novel with a murder complex.
My mind traitorously drifts to Cade—again. His voice. His stare. The fact that he moves like he’s both stalking prey and guarding a kingdom. Infuriating and hot in equal measure.
I keep trying to blame these thoughts on the animal I can feel growing stronger within me and the mate connection I’ve learned more about from the book, but I also read that finding your mate doesn’t mean you lose control over yourself and desires.
The bond only amplifies what naturally occurs.
Which I took to mean I already found Cade hot and lickable, but because we’re meant to be mates, those emotions are now making my skin feel like it’s on fire whenever I think about him.
Have I mentioned how fun this new life is for me?
I have so many regrets.
I press the heel of my hand to my chest, right over where that strange hum sometimes starts up like a whispered war drum. My wolf—I think that’s what this is anyway—has been oddly quiet the last hour or two. Which is probably not a good sign for me. Either she’s sulking, plotting, or saving her energy to hijack my body the next time someone breathes aggressively in my direction.
Because to make matters worse, if I don’t find a way to control the beast within, yeah, she can take over whenever she damn well pleases.
There’s a faint rustle by the door that pulls me from my bitchy thoughts. I sit up sharply, heart thudding once before I see a small, familiar blur dart into the room. Archie hops onto the end of the bed with a huff, dragging something behind him with his little teeth.
A folded piece of paper, tied with an unnecessarily sparkly ribbon.
I eye it with the kind of suspicion usually reserved for glitter bombs or potentially expired food. “Who’s that from?”
“Liz. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you.” Archie nudges it closer, waiting ever so patiently for me to stop being so paranoid.
