Peter rubbed his face. “It’s a difficult process for one not born to it. Without guidance, wulfleng can die during their first change. They panic and can’t find their way through it to the wulf or back again to the human. Sometimes it goes bad when the virus doesn’t fully enable the shift and the heart can’t take the strain.” He leveled his pale stare at me. “For those that make it through, they still have to find balance with the wulf. The animal side drives, but the human must navigate, or they become a dangerous beast.” Who knows what he saw in my face, but he hurried to reassure. “Liam, you’re young, fit, and strong. You’re one of the sanest people I know. You’re gonna get through this.”
The conviction in his gaze sent a flicker of hope through me. “But I might not.”
“No.”
“But it would be better if I did.”
“Yes. When the virus is at full strength, the wulf must run free at times or it’ll drive you insane. Without the shift, you’d have limited options.” His mouth drew down at the corners and his brows shadowed his eyes. “In Texas, wulfan enforcers put down wulfleng that cannot find balance, whether they shift or not. Unbalanced wulfleng are a risk to every wulfan as well as to humans, and their decision has to reflect the greater good.”
I sat in my chair and nodded as though it made perfect sense, but I shook all over. “Are there enforcers in Manitoba?”
“Yes. But the rules are more relaxed up here.”
My mind raced, putting together the pieces. “Dillon is a wulfleng.”
Chloe flinched; the movement so obvious I looked over at her. Peter remained silent, letting her tell Dillon’s story.
“Like I said, Dillon and I were friends for a long time, but I was the only wulfan in our close-knit group, and none of the humans knew what I was.”
She gazed across the kitchen with unfocused eyes. “When we entered high school, Dillon changed the relationship. Or tried to. He didn’t understand why we couldn’t be more than friends, and I couldn’t tell him.” Her gaze sharpened as she looked at me. “What happened was my fault. Instead of ending our friendship, like my father wanted, I tried to save it. And that made Dillon try even harder. I didn’t realize he’d started following me.”
“Stalking you,” Peter corrected. “Not your fault. Dillon wasn’t balanced about it. He’s obsessed.”
“He was a teenager,” she shot back. Then added, as she looked down and twisted her hands together on the table. “My father sent me away. No one told Dillon where I’d gone, and it worked for a while. But one day, three years into my college program, I looked up in the library and there he was.”
She clenched her fingers together. “He asked me to dinner, and I didn’t know what to say. I should have said no, but he was my friend.” She bit her lip and looked away, and it made me uneasy. Something about this isn’t ringing true.
Peter took up the story, his tone laced with disgust. “Chloe’s father got wind of where Dillon had gone, and her brothers headed after him. By the time they found Chloe and Dillon . . .”
“We were only walking together,” she said, her voice hostile. “I knew it was a full moon and I needed to drive to somewhere remote for my run. It was already dark, and I was jumpy, like I always am when I have to shift. But I have excellent control and had time to let Dillon down gently. Then Tate and Will popped out of nowhere and got stupid right off, up in Dillon’s face.” She shook her head, but again, I had the distinct feeling she wasn’t telling everything. “They were idiots, too close to the change, looking for a fight. And Dillon was never one to back down.”
“Dillon was then, and always will be, an angry SOB,” Peter stated.
“He has a temper,” she corrected, “but he didn’t deserve this. They got into it, and Tate lost control for an instant. He bit Dillon.”
It explained a hell of a lot: Chloe’s unhappiness, the fights, the lack of connection between them, yet her inability to throw him out. Chloe felt guilty, and Dillon—who in my limited opinion fit Peter’s description to a T—was now a highly unstable wulfleng.
But something niggled at me. I remembered the expression I’d seen for an instant in his eyes. The sick look of betrayal. Dillon is nuts, but he cares about Chloe. “You moved here to keep the enforcers from ending him.” I guessed, and saw by her face, I’d nailed it. I looked to Peter. “Is he getting worse?”
Before Peter could express the affirmation I saw in his gaze, Chloe jumped in. “He’s jealous of you. He knows you have the wulf in you, and he’ll kill you if he finds you here. And this time, I don’t know if we can stop him.”
Whoa. Lots to think about there, serious stuff, but my silly heart did a double beat and flipped over. Does Dillon have a reason to be jealous? Maybe now I’m wulfleng, he does. Right. Like that was my only take away from all this. And to tell the truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to start anything with Chloe. Her beauty drew me in, but I remembered the sick look in Dillon’s eyes. And was she worth getting hammered by those enormous fists?
Peter pulled his shirt closed over the mincemeat that was his chest and stood up. “Pack clothes for the next few weeks. Book time off work—they owe you for all the vacations you never take.”
I looked at him, uncomprehending.
“I have somewhere to keep you safe until we know where you stand,” he explained.
Until they find out how much of the wulf lives inside me. “But I can’t leave you here to face Dillon.”
“He’ll calm down without you around,” Chloe said, and I winced
