Wrong.
Kiera frowned at him uncertainly.
“Hey–are you all right?”
Brux nodded because he didn’t trust himself to say more.
And because what could he say? The young was still weak. The mother had to be monitored. The birthing pen needed to be cleaned, and the work—bots directed. There was too much to do. He couldn't give in to himself–to his primal urges right then.
So again, he said nothing.
They finished the work together, moving almost mechanically by then–both of them covered in sweat and exhausted to the bone. At last, with the mother and calf stable and the work—bots on watch, Kiera straightened and scrubbed a hand over her face.
“Bath,” she said faintly. “I need a bath so badly I may never come out of the water again!”
Brux only nodded. He felt dull inside–wrong.
The walk back to the home-dome and the bathing suite felt strangely unreal to him. He kept his eyes on Kiera’s back, on the swing of her braids and the smudges on her shirt, using the sight of her to tether himself as long as he could.
But by the time they reached the warm stone edge of the bathing pool, he knew he was in trouble–big trouble.
Kiera stripped off her soiled clothes and stepped into the water with a groan of relief, scooping handfuls of it over her arms and shoulders. Brux remained on the ledge for one heartbeat too long, trying to decide if he could hold on until she noticed on her own.
He could not–she looked up…and all the color drained out of her face.
“Oh my God—your face has gone all wolf again!” she exclaimed. “And your eyes are pure gold!”
Brux tried to answer quickly, before speech abandoned him entirely.
“Forgive me…couldn’t say…the animal would have lost her young…”
The words were becoming harder with every second. And it was harder to think… Harder to hold thoughts together long enough to push them out through his mouth.
His jaw felt wrong…his teeth were too sharp, and the bones of his face ached.
He could feel himself slipping–further and faster than he had in weeks.
Kiera’s eyes widened with panic.
“You’re starting to shift, Brux!” she exclaimed, sounding like she was panicking. “We have to stop it, now.”
He opened his mouth…but nothing came.
Or rather, something came—but it wasn’t language. Only a rough sound low in his throat, more growl than word.
Brux tried again, fighting through the thickening fog in his thoughts.
Kiera…Touch… Need…get…closer…
But the concepts would not arrange themselves properly. They broke apart and slid away from him before he could grasp them.
His hands shook. His vision pulsed strangely. The warm, steamy room seemed to stretch and blur at the edges. Oh Goddess, he was going all the way back to his wolf and this time, who knew if he would ever be able to shift back again?
Kiera was saying something else now—his name, maybe?—but even that was beginning to sound distant.
Brux could feel the void opening beneath him, hungry and dark and horribly familiar.
And for the first time since she had brought him back into the light, he was truly afraid he might not be able to find his way out again.
