Page 61 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

Just as I finally get the damn door open, two more goats trot inside like they own the place.

Fuuuuuuuck me.

“It’s all okay!” I repeat myself, because what the fuck am I supposed to say?

Sorry babe, I forgot to tell you I live and work with a bunch of crazy ass Shifters. Oh yeah, and I am one, too.

Not good? No, I didn’t think so either.

“Okay?!” Arliss barks. “How is this okay?”

“It’s fine! Everything is under control!” I grunt, while a goat climbs on my coffee table and starts chewing on my favorite book like it’s a freaking appetizer.

“Just go back upstairs, please. I’ll get everyone out and it’ll be, um, normal again.”

Of course, just then, Dolly Sue head butts me right in the nut sack and I fall to my knees, groaning.

“What about this is normal, Kian?”

Arliss is pointing now. Up. Toward the ceiling.

I follow her gaze and—yep.

Still a Bear cub.

Still swinging from my chandelier.

Still Rosie.

I run a hand down my face and focus on standing up without permanently damaging my means to sire young.

“Well, uh, maybe we should take a minute to define ‘normal’.”

That’s when Dante’s Bear lets out this low snort, which is clearly the asshole ursine version of bro, you're screwed.

He seems content with watching me fuck this up.

At least, that is until he notices his kid is now part of my light fixture.

Then he goes full Papa Bear mode and roars loud enough to rattle my teeth.

Arliss screams.

Rosie screams, er, roars.

I scream—internally, but it counts.

Then I jump over the couch like I’m in the goddamn Olympics, trying to get to Arliss before she thinks I’m part of a weird woodland cult.

But before I can get more than three words out, I hear it.

It’s the distinct, visceral sound of shifting.

Bones crack.

Muscles stretch and snap.

Magic electrifies in the air.

---