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Help him, my mother said. If this is the him she was even referring to.

I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him—and I trust his wolf even less. I know the power he holds. How strong wolf shifters are. Their loyalty lies with their pack… which is why I’m uncertain of his motives with me.

He narrows his eyes, then raises his hand to my throat. He wraps his fingers around it, pushing me back against the tree. This is it. He’s sick of my indecision and is going to end it.

My power gathers. I could pry him off me—unless his fingernails lengthen into claws and he tears my throat out like this. With his face in mine.

Heat pours into me, and my heart skips a beat. Or four.

It’s a different sort of heat. Not like the amulet or my magic. This comes directly from his palm, lacing through with my magic. My skin prickles under his hand, and the ache in my neck fades. After a moment, it disappears altogether.

Did he just heal me?

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

He steps back. “Climb on my back.”

“Wha—”

He falls forward and shifts.

Up close, it’s even worse. His bones seem to snap and reshape, although it’s soundless. It’s over in a second, and the huge white wolf meets my eyes. His are blue, similar to his human eyes. Not quite the same. Deeper blue, something between the fathomless ocean and a sapphire.

I don’t like that I notice that.

I’ll pretend I didn’t.

His tongue lolls out, a dog smile, and he lowers his front legs, some sort of play bow bullshit, in front of me.

I can’t move. I’m frozen against the tree, my fingernails digging into the bark. But the sounds of other wolves are closing in, their excited yipping and howling seeming to bounce off the trees around us. He swings his giant head and stares at me.

“Fine,” I mutter. I throw my leg over his back and jump a little to get all the way on. My fingers slide into the fur at the top of his neck. He’s shockingly soft, the fur thick and warm.

He lurches to his full height, and I tighten my grip on him. My heart is pounding out of control.

I’m sitting on a wolf.

Did my mother predict this? She’s probably cackling at the sight, wherever she is, as long as this doesn’t end with my violent demise.

He takes off, and I almost lose my balance. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his fur. Maybe I could strangle him like this, once we’re free of the other wolves. For now, I need him. He made sure of that.

His loping stride covers so much distance—it must be true that he was messing with me before. He could’ve caught me easily, but he preferred to make it my choice? To accept his help?

Low branches snag at my hair and my clothes, and I keep my eyes shut tight. Until I remember something.

“Wait,” I call out hoarsely.

He slows a fraction, his ears pointing back at me.

“My bag. By the tavern.”

His sides vibrate with some sort of grumble, but he changes his direction slightly. There’s another howl behind us, then a sharp bark. I clutch at the white wolf when he suddenly spins, his body flattening as he sprints.

Something comes out of the shadows, passing over us. Searing pain cuts through my back. It knocks me off the white wolf, and I hit the ground hard. Black spots pop in front of my eyes. I grope around for purchase through loose dirt and rock. My back is on fire, but I push myself back to my feet. To stay still, to lie down, is to die.

I really, really don’t want to die.

A low snarl drags my attention away from the direction my captor ran. A brown wolf stalks out of the tree line, his lips curling back to reveal dagger-like teeth. He’s not as large as the Winter Wolf, but there’s hate in his amber eyes.