Page 92 of Pit Stop

Maverick pulls the long dangling vines back, and I see it, a dark opening. Shit, he was right. How did he know that was here?

Must be some kind of alpha sense.

Maverick puts his head inside and sniffs.

He must deem it safe because he places his hand on the lower part of my back and leads me inside. The light from the sun filtering through the vines illuminates the space enough that we can make out basic shapes, but as we move farther into it, I notice that the rocks themselves are glowing.

Purples. Pinks. Emerald greens.

Not gems, but something else. It almost seems to throb with life.

“What the hell?” I ask, and Maverick looks stunned.

“What the hell is right. What is this place?”

“Some kind of magic?” I ask. “I mean, they have a shaman. Jex said the lake had healing properties. Maybe this cave is the same?”

“Who knows with these shifters? I mean, some kind of magic has to sustain them, right?”

“I guess. We all heard the stories growing up. I thought they were fairy tales.”

“They are in a way. You saw that shaman. He doesn’t look like someone from a book.”

“Yeah. I admit, I was expecting a pointed hat and a long robe.”

We grin at each other, and then we hear a soft whistle floating through the air.

Something almost comforting surrounds us, and my fingers start to tingle.

I feel it, a tightening in my ribs, a clawing at my knuckles, almost like this place is trying to pull the wolf out of me.

“What is this? Do you feel that?”

“I do, and part of me thinks we should leave.”

“Same.”

But neither of us does. We just stand there among the glowing rocks with the ethereal breeze moving past us when someone approaches from behind.

“Who said you could be here?” a gruff voice says. “You’re not shifters. You’re not allowed in this space.”

We turn and face an older man, his head cocked, his eyes gleaming as he watches us.

“Um, shit,” I murmur. “Jex said we should come here. We didn’t know…”

The older man frowns, his hand moving up to stroke his neatly trimmed beard. “Of course he did. He never was a rule follower. He doesn’t believe this place is sacred.”

“We didn’t know. We’ll leave,” I say, but the man stops us.

“No, you don’t need to. You’ve seen it already. And to be honest, it’s never a bad idea for the likes of you to feel what it means to be one of us.”

I don’t know what that means, and I don’t ask.

“You feel it, don’t you? The primal urge inside of you? It was bred out of your kind, but it’s still there in spirit. The urge.”

Maverick’s hand tightens on me, and I wince slightly but say nothing.

“We should go,” Maverick says, but the man stops him with a hand to his chest.

---