Page 82 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

Her concern evaporated. He was fine. And anyway what the hell did she care if he was hurt? He made it clear he didn’t want her help. He didn’t want anything from her, except maybe to see the back of her.

Well, he was getting that. As soon as she packed her bag she was leaving. Good riddance to Washington, its mercurial Alpha, and its oddball residents. As far as she could tell, the territory didn’t have a single redeeming quality. She hadn’t even seen its fabled horses. There was nothing good about Elder Lake.

Out of nowhere, Benjamin’s face rose in her mind.

She dropped the sweater she was holding. How could she have forgotten about him again? Heart pounding, she dug through her clothes and found her phone. Standing, she took it to the window and tilted it up. Her background photo, a candid shot of her and Lizette on a New York City balcony, appeared.

Haley frowned. Lizette. Her best friend. The person she called when she was sad or confused or angry.

But she hadn’t. She hadn’t thought of Lizette at all. She’d barely thought of anyone from home.

Of course, she also had a slight run-in with an avalanche.

Yeah, she’d had an all around shit day.

Her phone’s display showed no signal. Not even a paltry single bar.

“And the hits just keep coming,” she muttered. She put her forehead against the window and gazed blindly at the falling snow and the forest beyond it. She needed a way to contact Max. The New York Alpha might be a thousand miles away, but he would figure out how to get her out of Elder Lake.

And she needed to get out of Elder Lake. Like yesterday. Waiting until morning wasn’t an option. For one thing, she’d gnaw off her own leg before riding in a vehicle with Bard again—

She brought her head up, an idea forming in her mind. She didn’t have to gnaw off her leg. She just had to shift to four of them. In wolf form, she could run to Ben’s family’s cafe and use the phone. It was a place of business. Of course it had a landline. She’d call Max and ask him to send help. The New York Territory had diplomatic relations with wolves all over the country. There had to be someone close by who could help her. All she needed was a ride to the airport where Max would have a ticket waiting for her.

She could be out of Elder Lake within the hour.

Heart racing, she turned and tossed her phone on the bed. Then she faced the window again, flipped the lock on the top of the frame, and slid the whole thing up. Cold air and a flurry of snowflakes swirled into the room. The guest bedroom was on the side of the house.

Perfect.

The wind gusted, and snow pelted her midsection, making goosebumps form on her arms. She leaned forward, her gaze on the ground. It was about a twenty-foot drop. Nothing she couldn’t handle in wolf form.

Shivering, she spun and went to the door. She’d locked it when she ran upstairs, but there was no harm making sure. Not that a lock would keep Bard out if he truly wanted to enter. It wouldn’t even buy her time. But the perception of privacy made her feel better.

Door secure, she went to her suitcase and dug until she found a small drawstring bag. Every wolf had one. It was lightweight and just big enough to hold shoes and a change of clothes. She stuffed her phone, an outfit, and a pair of lightweight tennis shoes inside. Boots would have been nice, but hers were too heavy. They were also downstairs, and she wasn’t about to risk running into Bard to get them.

Bag cinched, she stood and stripped, wincing as she remembered her bra and button down were still on the living room floor.

Don’t think about that. Or him.

She’d made a decision. Now she needed to act on it.

Fully nude, she got on all fours and closed her eyes.

Then she called up her wolf.

It answered, the beast stretching inside her like a cat uncurling in the sun. The taste of copper filled her mouth and her fangs punched through her gums. Pressure built in her jaw, as if someone had poured boiling water in her head. She shook it, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain.

Just when it became unbearable, her lower jaw cracked, the sound like a gunshot in her head. The bones in her face slid against each other, rearranging themselves in a gruesome dance that made her stomach toss and pitch with nausea. Saliva flooded her mouth, and she opened her eyes on a gasp.

On the floor, her human fingers sprouted black hairs, distracting her from the agony unfolding in her skull. The skin on the backs of her hands bubbled like water boiling in a pot. The pops and ripples grew increasingly agitated, until the flesh split, exposing purple-tinged bone.

“Ungh . . .” Her moan became a gurgle as her vocal cords stretched and her throat grew longer. She stared at her fingernails, her gaze laser focused. It was a trick Remy taught her. “Keep your eyes on one thing. Don’t think about anything else happening to your body.”

Easier said than done because there was a lot happening to her body. A series of pops filled her ears as her spine shifted, reforming itself to accommodate an extra set of legs. The bones in her legs grew and then shrank, snapping into her new shape. Skin slid and stretched over her bones like putty, the magic of her race letting it reform without ripping her veins and arteries apart.

Tiny electric shocks fired all over her body—a million miniature lightning bolts striking all at once as hair covered her skin. She tossed her head. Once. Twice. On the third toss her human nose bulged and formed into a snout. At the edges of her vision, whiskers shot out like plant shoots filmed in a time lapse.

At last she stood on all fours, her body fully transitioned. Everything was brighter, the colors of the room sharper and bolder through werewolf eyes. She knew if she padded to the dresser and peeked in the mirror she’d see a grayish wolf with black-tipped ears and eerie blue irises.

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