All around, the werewolves shifted in a great wave of fur and fangs. Jaxson had called us all, commanded us all. And we had obeyed instantly as one.
My wolf staggered forward, dazed. I think…I think it’s better shifting quickly, but “holy shit” is right.
Suddenly, I understood.
Jaxson had been treating me with a gentle hand. His presence and touch had always made shifting easier, but he’d only used his power to give me the barest support I needed. He could have called my wolf out in a second, but he’d let me fight through the shift each time, pushing me to master it on my own.
The truth was, he could control me with a single howl—God, with a single look.
In that moment, I knew his power for what it truly was: complete. I was his to command, body and soul, whether I liked it or not.
And I didn’t like that one bit.
Yes, you do.
It wasn’t just me. The entire pack had shifted. A wolf nearby snarled and yanked a pair of torn jeans off her leg with her teeth. Apparently, she hadn’t finished undressing when the call came.
Sam followed my look, and I could almost read her thoughts: Yikes. Those were expensive. That’s what happens when you spend your time chatting.
A single howl, and we’d all obeyed instantly. I shivered.
Sam shook her silky fur with joy, then gave me a look. You okay?
I nodded, understanding her intent in my mind. It wasn’t quite telepathy that we shared—there were no words, really—but something deeper, more primal. Meaning conveyed by a myriad of small motions and scents and expressions I never knew existed, but that I could somehow read.
She flicked her head around, and I followed her gaze.
Jaxson was waiting at the far side of the clearing, staring back with impossibly gold eyes that said one thing: Come to me.
Instantly, we were padding across the grass. I felt my wolf’s excitement mix with my own.
He could call me anytime.
The wolves watched me pass. I must have stood out with my red and brown fur.
I ignored them all. Jaxson was a whirlpool, drawing me in and consuming my attention.
While the pack had wolves of every shape and size, Jaxson stood head and shoulders above the rest. Some were lithe and lanky, but he was all tightly bound power and muscle—a beast from a prehistoric age. A monster out of legend.
Our mate.
The fates had bound me to a savage that could break my neck with a single bite.
Jaxson took a step forward, and I found myself trembling and down on my belly, looking up at his powerful jaws.
He met my eyes. You are beautiful, red wolf.
His praise sent a shiver of pleasure though my body, and the fur on my back trembled.
Our mate approves.
I hadn’t realized we’d stopped breathing.
Are you ready to run? Jaxson asked in my mind, speaking with his eyes and his posture and the primal voice that wasn’t words, but images and sounds.
The feel of the grass, the thunder of paws, the scent of a hundred wolves all around me.
Do not be afraid. Once you run, you will know what it is to be one of us. You run with your family now.
The voice of Jaxson’s wolf was strange. So much more formal than that of the man. He spoke as a king to his queen, not as a man to his lover.
Jaxson cocked his ear as if hearing my thoughts. We do not know each other yet. I am eager to know you in this form just as well. Are you ready?
I just hope you can keep up, my wolf replied.
Had I been in human form, I would have clapped my hands over my damn sarcastic mouth.
Jaxson’s eyes just sparkled with laughter. Can you?
Then, without warning, he turned and ran.