Chapter 17: : Chapter 17

I let Jaxson drive. That was a clear indication of just how mentally messed up I was. To be fair, it was also his truck, and he’d taken the keys.

But I would have let him drive anyway. Probably.

I was a hollow shell of the woman I had once been. A husk. I leaned back in the passenger seat and put my face in my hands. “God, Jax, I’m so . What am I going to do?”

“We’ll figure this out,” he said, pitching his voice low. It stroked the ends of my nerves, soothing me for a moment. But I knew it for what it was—an illusion. Just a product of his damned presence and power and the weird sway he had over me. A false calm.

“Figure this out?” I snapped, refusing to be mollified. “I have a sorcerer trying to kill me or abduct me or just mind-fuck me, and now I’m turning into a monster. How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?”

Jaxson’s hands tightened on the wheel. “You’re turning into a . Whether you act like a monster is up to you.”

His bitterness was palpable, a caustic scent that burned my nostrils and made my stomach sink. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You meant exactly what you said.” His words were curt and resentful.

Man, he despised me.

I frowned, smelling my own embarrassment and shame. He was right—I’d meant what I’d said. He was a monster. A man that grew claws and fangs and turned into a ravening wolf. I was surrounded by monsters. Jaxson. The pack. The sorcerer. My family. And now me, too.

I leaned my head against the window. Trucks roared by us, the thunderous rumble of their engines straining my ears. People chatting on the street all sounded like they were shouting, and cars honking blocks away seemed like they were blaring their horns right behind me.

I gritted my teeth. “Everything is so loud all the time now. My ears are going to burst. How do you deal with this?”

“Don’t worry, we’re heading somewhere quieter. I expect it’ll take time to get used to the sensitivity. Your hearing and sense of smell are probably ten times what they were before. You’ll learn to filter. Hopefully, it’ll be second nature before long.”

“Hopefully not. We need to get this fixed, fast. I’m not supposed to be a werewolf.”

, growled a voice in the back of my head.

“I’m not!” I snarled, then blushed as Jaxson raised his eyebrows.

Great. Now I was talking to myself.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Look, there are other people we can go to—seers, witches, maybe even the archmages. But for now, you’re a werewolf, and you have a sorcerer coming after you. You have to learn to control your wolf, or it’ll emerge at the wrong time and put you in danger.”

I took a deep breath. He was right. If I lost control when a demon attacked, I’d be toast. Or what if Casey or Laurel or Uncle Pete found out? I’d lose the little family I’d gained.

My stomach churned. “How can I control it? I don’t understand what’s happening to me at all.”

Jaxson turned down a side street and started driving east. “Practice. When your mood turns, when you get scared or angry, your claws will come out. We’re going to start practicing so that you can pull them back and hide your nature.”

I looked down at my hands and breathed slowly in and out, trying to calm my rising nerves. “Fine. Show me the ropes.”

A deep rumble left his throat, and his lips curled up in a taunting smile. “If your wolf is anything like you, this could get interesting.”

I glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, it’s just a guess, but your wolf might be a little unruly.”

I bared my teeth at him, and when that did nothing to diminish his smile, I turned and looked out the window. “I don’t understand werewolves . You talk about and Do you just change into a different form? Or is your wolf…I don’t know, a separate thing from you? You talk like it’s a whole other entity sometimes.”

Jaxson pulled into a desolate parking lot on the south side of the dockyards. Cranes were hoisting long containers from a cargo ship and stacking them on the shore with deafening thuds. It was sort of quieter, but at least there was nobody around.

He shut off the truck. “You and your wolf are the same. But just like your body changes when you turn into a wolf, your mind and personality change as well. They become more wolflike, and you might discover that your desires, instincts, and priorities change. That’s why I generally find it easier to talk in terms of what I think versus what my wolf wants.”

I opened my door and climbed out. The parking lot was little more than cracked and broken asphalt surrounded by an expanse of tall grass and native weeds.

I sighed. “So…what does a wolf think like? Will I just want to hunt rabbits?”

“No,” he growled. “Could you be more insulting?”

“Sorry.” To be fair, the scent of various unidentified animals lurking in the deep grass had definitely caught my attention. My stomach rumbled, and I blushed.

Jaxson made a path through the weeds, heading toward the lakeshore. “Wolves are cunning, proud, and loyal. Frankly, thoughts in wolf form generally make a lot more sense than those of most people.”

, said the little voice in the back of my mind. I shoved my rogue thoughts down and followed.

Jaxson continued speaking as we waded through the scrub. “When you’re in human form, your wolf is repressed. But it doesn’t go away entirely. And when its priorities are different than yours, it might speak up.”

“Speak up?”

“Like a voice in your head. Your thoughts, but also not your thoughts.”

I paused and gripped Jaxson’s arm, pulling him up short. “Holy shit.”

“What?” His eyes flicked to my outstretched hand on his arm. I could feel the energy flowing between us, but I was too lost in thought to care.

“I think it’s been speaking to me. For a while,” I whispered.

“You didn’t notice?” Jaxson asked, echoing the irritatingly snarky voice in my head.

“I thought…I thought it was just snappy inner dialog. I’ve always had that.” My heartbeat accelerated. “Like…can I talk to it?”

My jaw dropped, but Jaxson just watched.

“Um, hi?”

“It…wants out,” I stammered.

, the voice added.

“Not surprising,” Jaxson said. “We’ll get there soon. Claws first.”

We stepped onto the three-tiered limestone seawall that lined the shore of Magic Side. Waves crashed below. Even though they were small, they were thunderous to my oversensitive ears.

My stomach twisted. This was a bit much reality, but I stuck my hands out. “What do I do?”

“Concentrate on how they felt, what they looked like when they first emerged. Channel the experience,” Jaxson suggested.

That was when Casey’s friends had taunted me. I remembered the burning sensation in my fingertips. I pushed with my mind, trying to make them come out. When nothing happened, I tried flexing all the muscles in my fingers. Frustration began to choke me. “It doesn’t work!”

Jaxson’s eyes burned into me. “Often, we start to shift because of an emotion. Anger. Think about what happened that made them emerge the first time.”

I groaned inwardly but closed my eyes and tried to recall the faces of the two pricks at the bonfire. I replayed their taunts and derision and inuendo. Rage crept across my neck and shoulders, and my muscles tensed, but no claws emerged.

, the voice in my head said.

It was.

But then I thought of the twisted horror that had called me from my house in the night—the noctith demon. Had I clawed it?

No.

, the voice insisted.

I fought with all my will, but the thing inside of me forced an image of Billy into my mind. His face was frozen in horror and disbelief. Blood poured from his chest and across my clawed hands.

My eyes flew wide as pain erupted through my fingertips. My claws ripped free, and I stumbled back and cried out in surprise. Drops of blood trickled down my hands where my new talons had emerged, but the skin around them had already healed.

Blood-covered claws.

Stomach churning and near to vomiting, I bent over and tried to think of anything but Billy. I knew that somehow, he was responsible for all of this.

Jaxson steadied me, and warmth flowed from his hands. It mercifully drove the haunting images of Billy from my mind and the nausea from my gut.

“Good,” Jaxson half-growled. His praise and lingering touch sent a shiver of delight along my spine. I hated that.

With a defiant snarl, I shook my hands out and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with the back of my wrist. “Fuck. Does it hurt less after a while?”

He shrugged. “Great transformations take pain. The first few times are always the hardest, when every sensation is new and raw.”

I bit my lip and turned to gaze over the lake. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for out there. A way out? Relief? Answers?

I watched the waves and cupped my throbbing hands.

Jaxson stepped up behind me, and his breath caressed my neck. Though our bodies didn’t touch, his heat still warmed the skin beneath my clothes. My neck flushed, but I didn’t move away.

He pressed his cheek against my hair and whispered, “Eventually, the line between pain and pleasure blurs. It becomes a symbol of your power to transform both your body and mind. To become something new.”

His fingers slipped from my shoulders and ran down along my arms. His touch was so light, it felt electric, and I was certain that he sensed me shivering beneath his fingers. My control fading, I pressed my body back against the hard warmth of his.

His fingers continued drifting down my bare forearms until they came to rest on the back of my hands. Then, with an agonizingly gentle motion, he gently traced his fingertips backward from my claws, along my fingers, to the backs of my hands.

My claws slowly retracted, slipping inside my body, and I shuddered.

“Did that hurt?” he asked, low and gravelly.

I tensed and set my jaw. “Yes,” I whispered. “But not like before.”

He pushed his fingers along my hands. Pain tore through my fingertips as my claws extended once again. I winced and stifled a cry as I pushed my body against his.

Slowly, over and over, he slid my claws in and out, in and out, until the sensation was familiar, until I was drunk on his touch.

Jaxson’s scent was all around me. Mossy earth and fresh forest, and the taste of melting snow. I could barely stand it with my improved senses. My legs quaked, but not from the ache in my hands.

“Now you try. Pull back your own claws, little wolf,” he whispered into my hair in a voice that wasn’t quite his. Something feral.

An hour ago, I would have stabbed him for calling me that. But now, I was intoxicated with his scent and his power. Something about the way his breath formed the words next to my ear made the heat rise between my thighs, and I wanted only to please him.

“How?” I asked, my question drifting out in a dreamlike state.

“Like before. Look down at your hands. Now they have claws. Think of how they look when you draw, when you paint. Focus your mind on your human form.”

I did as I was told, bringing the image of my hands sketching into my mind. Nothing happened, and my body began to shake from frustration and the strain. I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. How was I supposed to concentrate with his arms around me? With his powerful scent so close? I could feel every curve and dip of his muscled form pressed to my back, patiently waiting.

The idea of focus was preposterous.

But I didn’t push him away. Instead, I gave up trying and savored his scent. I should have hated him. But in that moment, I was content to let my thoughts drift away, to imagine how it might feel to trace my own fingers across the contours of his chest.

With a spark of pain, my claws slipped back into my fingers. I choked in surprise. “I did it!”

Jaxson gave a low laugh, and I swelled with pride. I felt a force inside of me stir, desperate to be released. The wolf.

the feminine voice demanded.

, I thought back, hoping that would work.

I concentrated on my hands and imagined my claws erupting from my fingers.

But with Jaxson so close, I couldn’t focus on Billy or my rage or my fear. The sensations of his body drowned everything else out with my back and ass pressed up against him. He was rigid and powerful, and everywhere we touched, my skin burned with desire.

The voice of the wolf brought me to attention like a slap in the face. My mind reeled, and I glared down at my fingertips, pushing with all my will as the color rose to my cheeks.

My arms jerked as my claws shot out, and I gasped in triumph. “I did—”

But before I could finish, my arms bent and began to twist. Hair burst from my skin, and I yelped as my shoulder popped out of place. My jaw and nose began to ache, and fangs erupted. My gut twisted in protest and rebellion.

I struggled in Jaxson’s arms and tried to break free, even though I knew I couldn’t outrun the monster tearing its way out of me.

“Too far,” he growled, then grabbed my wrists. With a swift motion, he collapsed my arms against my chest and pinned me back against his body like a vise. But I didn’t stop shifting. My legs trembled and my back arched as the transformation took hold. I was too scared to even scream or gasp for air.

Jaxson bound me tight and pushed his power into me. Wave after wave, it pulsed through my body, forcing the beast within into submission. Everywhere we touched burned with delight, and the monster finally calmed. Slowly, the hair on my arms withdrew, and my claws retracted. I collapsed in his grasp, horrified and spent.

“I like that you’re ambitious, but you need to walk before you run,” Jaxson said, his voice husky.

“She wanted out. I couldn’t stop her,” I whispered.

He relaxed his arms, and he stepped around to face me. “Of course she did,” he said, and gently brushed the hair from my face. “Mastering a partial shift is hard. It requires control and dominance over your inner beast. The full shift takes less skill because you just let go. But I know you can do this. Out of all the women I know, your will is the most like iron.”

“I can’t. This is fucking insane!” I pushed away, but my legs were still unsure whether they belonged to a human or a wolf, and I stumbled to one knee.

Jaxson pulled me up. “You’ll master this. That was good for a first attempt—though you haven’t quite finished.”

A subtle smile crept across his lips, and he placed his thumb gently against my upper lip and softly pressed on my canine. A dull ache spread through my jaw, and my eyes widened with shock as it withdrew.

“There. No more fangs. Now the shift is complete,” Jaxson purred.

Rather than leaving my lips immediately, his thumb lingered. I closed my eyes, unable to think of anything but his finger softly pressing my mouth. My heartbeat quickened as the seconds passed, both of us frozen in place.

I parted my lips just to feel them drag against his skin.

The heat in my belly begged me to turn my head left and take his thumb into my mouth—to press my lips softly around it and trace my tongue along its length.

Instead, I turned my head right and stepped back.

He did the same and avoided my eyes. His voice turned hard. “You need to practice more. Now. We have time.”

The stern tone was betrayed by the scent of his desire. It was overwhelming, a strong musk redolent with strength and power and possessiveness.

My heartbeat raced. If I could smell all that, what could he detect?

, said the voice.

I gasped, and Jaxson raised an eyebrow.

My cheeks burned. How much of the feisty little voice was my own?