Page 33 of Scarred Savages
“Right,” Hudson says, mercifully drawing my attention back to him. “Stick to it. And do not go beyond our territory, you can’t miss it, there’s a large fence.”
“Got it. Trail only,” I nod, desperately trying to keep my eyes above Hudson’s neck level.
“If you hear howling, don’t worry. It’s just us.”
“Unless it’s not,” Axel adds with a mischievous grin. “Then you should definitely worry.”
“Axel,” Ethan warns.
“What? Just keeping things interesting.” Axel stretches, his large cock swaying between his legs.
They step outside, and I follow.
The way their muscles ripple and the raw power radiating from their limbs—it’s both awe-inspiring and intimidating. How am I supposed to handle all this when I can barely look at them without turning into a lobster?
“Want to see us shift?” Hudson asks.
“Yes!”
Ethan chuckles as he steps forward—and then—holy crap. The transformation is fluid and natural. Ethan’s body bends, bones shifting with soft clicks, muscles rippling as skin morphs into sleek, dark brown fur. His face elongates into a snout, ears perking up, and sharp eyes reflecting the forest.
I can’t help the small gasp that escapes me. Ethan’s wolf is huge.
Axel goes next, the air around him practically crackling with energy. His body contorts and expands until a massive gray wolf stands where he once was.
His wolf is even larger. Terrifying, and utterly mesmerizing.
Hudson follows suit; his transformation is swift yet majestic. His large frame grows, muscles bulging before being covered in thick white fur. He shakes his mane, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he looks at me with familiar yet entirely different eyes.
He’s the largest of the three.
Utterly breathtaking.
With a nod, they bound into the woods, their powerful forms melting into the trees with a grace I can only admire.
“Wow,” I breathe out, the single word mixing longing and excitement.
I’ve seen my father shift a handful of times when I was young, but we lived in the human district where shifting was impossible. At the institute, the girls shifted during allocated hours. Their wolves were smaller, more delicate—nothing like these massive beasts.
I stand there for a moment before realizing I’ll need a jacket.
Turning back inside, I scan the hooks by the door—my hand hovers between them.
Choosing one feels significant somehow.
“It’s just a jacket,” I mutter, grabbing one because it’s closest. Definitely not because the scent makes my pulse race. The moment I put it on, I know I’ve made a mistake—or maybe the exact right choice. It swallows me whole, but also feels like being wrapped in Axel. My pulse skips, and my wolf presses closer to my skin as if she likes it too.
I push that thought away and head outside.
The path leading into the woods is well-worn and easy to follow. I step onto it, feeling the soft earth beneath my feet and the gentle rustle of leaves overhead.
I breathe deeply, savoring the earthy scents of moss and new growth. It’s intoxicating. For the first time in years, I feel something unfamiliar spreading in my chest. It takes me a moment to recognize it.
Happiness.
Pure, simple happiness.
The kind that terrifies me, because things this good never last.
