Page 2 of Enspelled

He’s crouched a few feet away. “Come here.”

The forbidding expression on his face makes me hesitate, but after a moment, I pad over to him.

When I’ve reached him, he closes his hand around my snout and peers deep into my eyes.

Is it a snout? Is that what I have?

Geez, why do I know nothing about wolves?

“Shift.” His voice is nothing less than an order. I feel the power in the command, and I remember that he’s an alpha wolf. Maybe that’s why part of me wants to follow his demand.

But I don’t shift. I just stare at him as he stares back.

I want to remind him that he tried this once I’d stopped gagging nearly an hour before, and it didn’t work then, so it’s not likely to work now.

His brow creases in a frown. “Why aren’t you shifting?”

He waits a little longer, but when nothing happens, he releases my snout. “You can’t stay a wolf, Briar. You shouldn’t evenbea wolf.”

The longer he stares at me as if trying to puzzle me out, the more bored I get. I want to tell him it’s a beautifully cool Thursday afternoon and there’s a whole forest around us with a million different scents, and squirrels to chase, and butterflies and…fun.

And we’re just staring at each other.

Sighing, he rises from his crouch before raking a hand through his shoulder-length, ash-blond hair. “Come on, we’ll try again later.”

But I’m only half-listening because my nose has discovered a new scent. One I haven’t smelled before. An interesting one. My gaze connects with small, beady eyes tucked behind a tree a few feet away.

They blink.

In challenge.

A snarl rumbles from my throat.

“Briar.” Keane’s voice is deep with warning.

The beady eyes blink again.

I charge.

“Briar, get the fuck back here!”

The mole disappears into the brush, but I’m not worried. I have its scent—and even better, I have four legs.

It’s not getting away from me.

Not like the squirrel.

2

KEANE

Iglance over at the small reddish-brown wolf in the seat beside me.

She immediately looks out her window.

“Briar, you cannot chase everything that smells good,” I tell her as I start up the truck. “We don’t have time for me to keep going after you because you caught the scent of a mole.”

Her head lowers as she slumps in her seat.

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