Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

He was forgiven.

“So why are you trying to get naked?” she asked after a moment.

“I told you. It’s not what you think. Give me a second. You’ll see.”

“Whatever.”

That was as good as he was going to get. Quickly shucking off his shoes, his pants, his shirt, Colt stretched out his frame, took a deep breath, and shifted on the spot.

It happened in a heartbeat. With a quick sting, like a rubber band snapping against his skin, Colt went from man to wolf, landing on all four paws with a muffled thud. He shook off the sudden shift, made his wolf stretch so that it didn’t barrel into Shea straight away, then padded in front of her.

He knew what he looked like. An oversized wolf with white fur, shocking blue eyes, and terrifying fangs. A shifter could maybe pass for a big dog from a distance or if it was dark out. Standing in the middle of her living room, there was no mistaking exactly what he was.

His wolf folded its legs beneath it, laying its belly on the floor, its muzzle at her feet.

There. Super non-threatening.

Shea inched toward him.

“Colton… is that you?”

He opened his muzzle, his tongue lolling out. It wasn’t dignified. It wasn’t predatory.

But it worked.

Lowering herself to the ground, she grabbed the scruff of fur around his face, running her fingers through the white strands, scratching his cheeks. His wolf preened.

He let her stroke him for as long as she wanted, content to stay in this shape while Shea got to know his beast. When she finally drew back, he took that as a sign that she was ready to face Colt again.

His wolf yipped, nosing the pile of discarded clothes with its snout. Shea got the hint, turning her back to give him his privacy. Not that it bothered him if she saw him naked or not. Shifters were used to nudity. Growing up in a pack, it wasn’t sexualized. A packmate’s body was just another body—unless it was your mate’s.

Colt shifted back, trying to contain his sudden desire to ask Shea if she’d be interested in checking his body out.

Would she like it?

How would it compare to all the other males she’d seen?

At that thought, an inhuman sound tore out of his throat.

“Um… Colton? Are you still a wolf? Yip once for yes, twice for no.”

Shit. That jealous growl had sounded a bit animalistic, hadn’t it?

Colt coughed, clearing his throat. “Nah. I’m back. Naked, though, so unless you want to see—”

“I’m good. Just let me know when you’re dressed again.”

He swallowed another growl, swooping down to grab his clothes. After stabbing his legs back into his pants, he buttoned them closed, then shimmied on his shirt. He did up a couple of the buttons, leaving most of them undone, before grunting, “Done.”

It took her a second to react. Colt had just about convinced himself that he didn’t honestly care what she thought of his wolf right as she slowly turned to face him again.

Her eyes glittered, some indescribable emotion making the rich purple color shine.

“Oh, Colt,” she whispered, and it didn’t escape him that she’d used his nickname for the first time ever. “I have to tell you… your wolf? He’s the most majestic creature I’ve ever seen. I— thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Colt frowned.

Yes.