He kicks off his boots, then reaches for his belt buckle.
“Maceo.”
He glances at me calmly, as if stripping naked in a forest clearing is the most natural thing in the world.
“What?”
“You are taking your clothes off.”
“I am about to shift into my Wolf.”
“I assumed the clothes came with you.” My voice comes out higher than intended.
“Unfortunately, they do not.”
He reaches for the button on his jeans.
I spin around and cover my eyes, heat flooding my face.
“Good lord.”
“If I shred my clothes every time I shift I will go bankrupt,” he says, and I can hear the amusement in his voice.
“You could have warned me.”
“I did warn you.”
“You absolutely did not warn me about the naked part.”
A moment later there is a low rustling sound behind me, like wind through leaves but different, deeper, more intentional.
I turn around and stumble back a step.
A massive black Wolf stands where Maceo had been.
He is enormous. His shoulders nearly reach my chest, and his frame is powerful in a way that makes something primitive in my brain sit up and take notice. His coat gleams like polished obsidian in the sunlight, so dark it seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. His eyes are the same green as Maceo’s, intelligent and warm and entirely too familiar.
For a moment I simply stare.
“Oh my god.”
The Wolf bounds forward happily, his tail wagging like an overgrown puppy.
He circles me once, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his fur, then tears across the clearing and leaps over a fallen log with joyful energy that makes me laugh despite myself.
“You are huge,” I say, my voice full of wonder.
The Wolf barks once, a sound that echoes across the clearing and probably announces our presence to every creature within a mile radius.
I spread the blanket on the grass and sit while he races across the meadow again, kicking up leaves and dirt behind him like he’s celebrating his freedom. He’s beautiful in motion, all power and grace and wild joy.
After a few minutes he trots back toward me, tongue lolling out in what can only be described as a doggy grin.
The Wolf shimmers, and for just a moment I can see both forms overlapping, Wolf and man existing in the same space.
A second later Maceo is sitting on the blanket again.
Very naked, and holy hell, this man is not real.
