Ryon. Doesn’t go with blond at all.”
“I can’t help what I am,” he ground out. “My wolf doesn’t like you thinking about some other man, and neither do I.”
“You know what? This jealousy thing from you is a little intense for me, considering we haven’t known each other all that long.” Standing, she started to gather her clothes and piled them on the couch. She pulled on her panties, and then started putting on her bra.
“Dammit, I’m sorry.” Pushing to his feet, he held out a hand. “Please, don’t go.”
“I need some breathing room, okay? I’m not leaving, I’m just going to relax for a while and have some time to myself.”
“If that’s what you want.” He looked so miserable she almost relented.
But she needed to get away, catch her breath. His emotions were battering at her, all of his joy, fear, hope, anger, and she felt like she was in danger of losing her mind. She didn’t understand how his feelings were flowing to her like there was a superhighway between them, but she had to take a break.
Once she was dressed, she turned to face him. “I’ll talk to you in a bit, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”
He looked away, not speaking. A wave of hurt and rejection poured to her from him, and she fled like a coward in the wake of it. She left, not risking another glance at him and was back in her own quarters in less than a minute. Once there, she paced the carpet.
She couldn’t stop. There was something alive under her skin. That was the only way to describe the sensation that was driving her crazy. And this feeling seemed to be agitated by Ryon being upset. Daria regretted hurting him, but this was more. It was as if there was another consciousness making itself known, or trying to, and it wasn’t happy. It wanted something.
Wanted out.
She gasped. What was that? She was losing her marbles. She—
During one of her passes by the window, she paused, her attention caught by movement outside. When she saw a silver and black wolf streak across the lawn toward the forest, her heart clenched.
The wolf was Ryon. In a compound surrounded by shifters, she wasn’t certain how she knew it was him. But it was. The strange bond between them sang with fear, longing, and sadness. The desire to run until he was too exhausted to care.
Before she could question the wisdom of her actions, she was pushing open her patio door, exiting the small yard and running in the direction he’d gone. She tried pushing her thoughts at him, but whether any of them connected, she couldn’t say.
Nothing.
She wasn’t sure how far she’d gone or how long she’d chased him when she stopped and braced a hand on a tree. She couldn’t run anymore. And there was a painful lurch in the pit of her stomach, like she had to vomit. That didn’t happen, but sickness roiled in her belly. Spread to her arms and legs, which were now itching like mad, and became excruciating pain.
Crying out, she hit her knees, holding her casted arm over her stomach. Her skin and guts were turning inside out, and any second they were going to exchange places. All that would be left was a gruesome pile of muscle and bone, and they would all shake their heads in speculation of what could’ve happened. If she didn’t know a creature had killed the campers, she might’ve believed there was a new disease going around, and she had caught it.
“Ryon!” Panting, doubled over, she clawed at the ground. Then she realized that her hands were tipped with actual claws. Black and sharp. “Shit!”
Her limbs began to move—and then one by one, they popped. Screaming, she could do nothing as the change she’d witnessed in Ryon just a short while ago took over her body as well.
The agony was horrendous. She continued to scream until her voice was hoarse—and then became a long, high-pitched howl. The pain ended as suddenly as it had begun, and she whimpered, frantically looking all around her. The cast that had occupied her arm was now split and lying in the grass. Clearly it was no longer needed, because her leg was fine.
Other than belonging to a wolf.
First she struggled to get free of her clothing. Then sitting, she looked down at herself, incredulous. She was covered in silky-looking black fur and had four paws. A tail? She tried wagging it, and to her surprise, it worked. It brushed the ground behind her, stirring leaves. Slowly, she tried to stand. That part went okay, but when she tried taking some steps forward, her legs got all tangled and she went down with a yelp.
Exhaustion prevented her from getting up, and so she curled into a ball and whined miserably. She couldn’t walk back yet, and the sun would set soon. How was anyone supposed to find her? She didn’t want to be out here alone, in a strange body, when the sun went down.
The memory of the screeching creature, not to mention Nick’s rendition of what it might look like, made her shake. It had slaughtered two people, maybe more. If the beast found her out here, weak and defenseless, she’d end up as dinner.
Despite her fears, she grew sleepy. Staying awake wasn’t an option. Before she went under, she could have sworn she saw a white wolf appear from behind a tree about fifty yards away. But when she blinked it was gone.
She’d probably imagined that, too. But she was too tired to answer anyway.
In wolf form, Ryon raced through the woods toward the compound. Toward his mate. He had heard her cry out, and had immediately turned back when the pain felled him.
Her agony had ripped through him as though it were his own, and he’d actually stumbled and fell. Sitting on his haunches trying to figure out what had happened, the realization hit him.
Daria was going through her first shift. His mind reeled at the knowledge. Hadn’t it taken Kira and Rowan a few weeks to experience their wolf for the first time? God, this had happened so soon, he wasn’t ready.
She was confused, in pain. Alone. All of these horrible things should not have happened. If he’d been a better mate, he wouldn’t have indulged in a moment of self-pity, leaving her by herself at the compound. Not even for an hour, not when he knew she would need him, and not over something as stupid as his jealousy of a man who was no real threat to his mating.
Because he was a selfish bastard, she was suffering. He called out to her as he ran, but she wasn’t answering. The bond between them was blank, but not as though she was willfully shutting him out. It was as if she was asleep, or unconscious. He ran faster, frantic to find her.
He wasn’t sure how long he searched, but he was starting to panic. Their bond would’ve helped him find her faster, but he was hindered. Maybe she hadn’t even run in his direction.
The last thing he needed was to see the glowing form of a spirit step from behind a tree. Halting in his tracks, he recognized the woman who’d been mutilated. This time her image was whole, her skin unmarred by the atrocity inflicted upon her. Sometimes this happened, the victims reverting back to the state they were in before they died. Maybe they couldn’t accept what had happened, much less that they were supposed to be dead.
As the ghost moved closer, eyes beseeching, Ryon shifted. Kneeling in the dirt, he shook his head. “I can’t help you.”
Ryon shivered. The spirits were so seldom able to get their woes across. Leave it to this one to be different. “I know. I’m sorry for what the beast did to you, but we’re going to catch him. I promise.”
This time, her voice came through on a whisper. “My husband?”
“Everyone is looking for him. We’ll find him.” She didn’t need to know they probably already had.
“Monster,” she said sadly, the strange, dark eye sockets glistening with unshed tears.
Jesus. “I hope not. But one way or another, we’ll find him.”
From her bereft expression, she must have known he’d likely suffered the same fate. Why did the ghosts
