Cass rose and reached for his fanny pack. “Damn. My phone’s soaked. That’s where I had all the witch numbers Gran gave us.”
I groaned. There was no point in even checking my phone. It was shot to hell for sure.
Cass and I looked to Molly, who only shrugged. “I have no idea who to call,” she confessed, not that I thought she would, but it didn’t hurt to try, right?
“So we’re fucked,” I concluded. “It’ll take some time to make contact with a coven without having direct numbers.”
“And there’s no way your alpha will wait that long to come see you, especially after his men tell him what happened tonight,” Cass added. “Even if he buys the line that you’re sleeping, I doubt he’ll stay away for more than an hour’s nap.”
I tried to ignore the way him calling Brock “my alpha” made me feel.Focus, Evie. I also tried to ignore Brock’s earlier proposition for me to sleep over tonight, with little luck. “All right. So what else can we do?”
We sat and chewed on the problem for a bit, but the only significant contribution was Cass saying that Blondie and Ginger were sure to tattle on us. And he was right. The wolves owed their alpha allegiance, not me. They were probably telling him I looked like sopping wet hell right this second.
“What about shifting?” Molly finally offered, and Cass and I swiveled to look at her.
I blinked wildly. “Shifting?”
“Yeah, you’re a fox shifter, right? Shifters heal when they shift.”
Leave it to the supe groupie to remember this.
“You’re right,” Cass added. “Evie, you have to shift.”
“Bu-but what about the baby? Will I hurt the baby?”
“I don’t think so,” Cass stated, but he looked to our expert on all things supernatural for confirmation.
Molly shook her head. “No, you definitely won’t hurt the baby. I’m sure of it. Pregnant werewolves shift all the way up until the final trimester. It’s only at that point that the baby is too big to fit inside your rib cage when you shift. Until then, you’re safe.”
“You’re sure?” I pressed.
“A hundred percent.” Molly nodded enthusiastically and I wondered if she had some kind of supernatural handbook in her purse. I wouldn’t doubt it.
“All right, then. It seems like that’s our only option. I guess I’d better get back out of this dress.” But then I realized that was the least of my problems. “How the hell do I shift?”
“Easy,” Molly offered, jerking her bright purple bob up and down. “You just picture yourself as a fox in your mind, and flow with your body when it starts shifting to conform to that image.”
Oh sure, super easy.
“Okay. I’ll try it, I guess.” Because really, what choice did I have? I’d never leave Brock’s house again if he caught me with a broken wrist, and two cracked ribs.
A werewolf’s natural possessiveness was bad enough, but an alpha’s was a thousand times more pronounced. And I was pregnant with his bloodline heir. The guy was going to be a stage-five clinger for sure.
Once I was ready, buck naked in the middle of my childhood bed, I remembered how painful the first shift had been. How did I ever forget? Oh, that’s right. I’d found out I was carrying a werewolf’s baby.
“Will it hurt?” I asked, a little too squeakily, without opening my eyes.
“The first time is the worst.” Molly’s voice was confident. “After that, each time gets easier, until it stops hurting entirely.”
That wasn’t wholly reassuring…
“All right. Here I go,” I replied anyway.
Cass and Molly stood like sentinels on either side of the bed as I called up the mental image of myself as a fox. Sharp violet eyes, four legs, bushy tail—the fox from the video Brock had shown me on his phone, minus the terrified gaze.
Molly was right, it hurt a smidge less than last time, but I still screamed like a banshee. I was well aware of how keen wolf hearing was, and how many wolves were probably in the house on the top of the hill, but I couldn’t help it.
Once the shift was complete, all I could do was pant for a bit while I worked to recover from the pain of the change. Amazing how easily my body shifted its shape at my mental command.
