Page 72 of Broken-Hearted

It’s not happening.

I open my eyes. “You can’t look at me while I do this.”

He stares at me like I lost my mind.

“Yes, I know it makes no sense. But it’s you. And…” I blush.

It’s weird to shift in front of someone I like because it just is.

The amusement stirring in his gaze fades as he gets up and turns his back to me.

It’s sweet. I really thought he would be funny about it, but he wasn’t.

I reach for my wolf again, and let the shift sweep over me.

A minute later, I’m a wolf, my body covered in blonde fur. My eyes are a brighter shade of blue than when I’m human, and my nose… I wrinkle it, wishing it wasn’t so sharp.

A multitude of scents fill the space, competing with each other. Mostly it’s the nasty food smells from the kitchen that dominate. My failed, botched attempt at cooking. Nathan cleaned up the mess, but it's going to take a while longer for the smells to dissipate.

I focus on the yummy scent from beside the front door where a medium size reddish-brown wolf is sitting on its hindquarters with its back to me.

Nathan’s scent of cedar, amber and mint, is as fresh, warm and irresistible to me as it always is.

My claws click across the hardwood floors as I walk over to him, and he peers over his shoulder to look at me.

He tilts his head then, as if to ask me if I’m ready.

I shake my head and try to look pathetic.

He snorts and touches his nose to mine, saying hello in a wolfy way. Despite my initial refusal to get my fur wet, I’m excited to run and play with Nathan. Gripping the doorknob with my teeth, I turn it and pull the door open.

A sudden gust of wind blows it even wider open and I dart outside into the fury of a storm.

It is torrential rain out there, windy as hell, but it is absolutely beautiful.

One playful tackle turns into a muddy wrestling match and my wolf is beyond thrilled.

Me? I’m thinking about the tangles I have waiting for me after this run. At least until Nathan darts off into the forest and cocks his head as if to ask what the hell I’m doing just sitting there.

There are moments of being a wolf that I will always love. The freedom to run, to chase, to play is unlike anything I’ve ever felt as a human or ever will. Worries fade. All that matters is this one moment, and it is beyond liberating.

I give into that feeling and charge after Nathan.

It must be three hours later when we return from our run, tracking water inside the cabin. I am absolutely drenched through, but I can’t stop smiling. Or my wolf can’t. The human me, deep in the body of my wolf, is more exhausted than anything else.

Nathan shifts first, rising from his crouch and ducking into the bathroom as I’m still shifting.

When I’m human again, he’s standing in the bathroom doorway, his back to me. He must have dried off in the bathroom because, while his hair is still a little damp, his body is dry.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” I say, my heart warming at his gesture. “I know I was being weird.”

“No, you weren’t.” He crosses over to me and wraps a large towel around me before he carries me over to the bed, handing me a smaller matching blue towel. “We’re not pack yet. I get it.”

Shifting in front of someone not a packmate makes you vulnerable. I hadn’t realized why it felt so weird before until he said it. It was always me and Martha. Just us. For years, so I never had to think of it. Shifting requires trust that the person close by won’t attack you when you’re too focused on shifting to defend yourself.

He ducks back into the bathroom as I dry my hair with the smaller towel and try not to fall asleep.

He returns carrying my hairbrush.

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