As they worked, the wolves had played.
Yes, they had agreed, but they weren’t unaware of the risks, so they were taking full advantage for as long as they could. They spent almost the entire week as wolves. There was hardly a time she looked out the window without seeing a mini-pack run by.
There was howling every night, until Game, Fish, and Wildlife had come around, and Malcolm had told them they were hosting aWhite Fangmovie marathon on the lawn.
They’d stopped howling but had kept partying long into the night on the off chance it was the last time they would get to.
Their courage and unwavering choice humbled her. They had to be scared. They had to doubt their decision and the witches’ power. After all, they were deliberately putting themselves at themercy of a coven, something the wolves had sacrificed quite a lot and fought for millennia to never do again.
The Abbott Coven scribe had brought more history books about witches and shifters. The books didn’t have the spell, but they described it in detail, as well as gruesome tales of the shifter wars as wolves snapped their leash and fought for freedom. Penn wondered if the book she’d stolen held the only spell left.
Now the shifters were giving that freedom and power back, at least for a morning, for a very good cause.
All the caveats in the world didn’t change how vulnerable they must feel, but not one of them spoke it. They just hardly ever shifted back, sleeping in a big pile of fur on the front lawn and spooking the horses as they ran.
But now it was time.
When nothing else moved in the clearing, Malcolm released her arm, and they walked a little closer.
“Asher!”
Penn braced; it smelled like rotting meat. Her heart nearly stopped. Until this moment, she hadn’t considered the fact they might already be too late.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she met two glowing eyes in the dark of a tiny cave in the wall of rock. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to summon a smile. He wasn’t crazed or rabid, but she couldn’t tell if he was human at all.
Malcolm threw a pair of jeans in the dirt without ceremony. “Can you shift?”
The eyes blinked, ignoring the jeans.
“I can make you,” Malcolm offered casually.
The wolf took one step out and ignored Malcolm. It walked toward her.
She braced, trying not to show fear as it stopped a foot away, its head cocked like a dog’s.
“Tell him to shift,” Malcolm said.
“Can you shift?” she asked.
“Tell him.”
“Please, shift back, Asher.”
19
From a long way away, Asher heard a sound. A voice was speaking. He didn’t understand the words, but he remembered the existence of words, and then of himself. He was a human being, not a wolf, not only a wolf.
The wolf stirred and headed for the entrance, seduced by a familiar, perfect scent.
Mate!
Sunshine shone in his eyes as they ducked outside. It was a scramble to get through the tiny hole. It didn’t use to be this small. Asher supposed he was the one who changed, not the rocks. He was bigger now, less skinny. The wolf blinked to see his alpha and his mate, and something in Asher quaked.
He had to stay away for their protection. He had to stay away, but here were the two people he could never stay away from.
Malcolm held up a bit of leather. The wolf didn’t understand at all, and Asher didn’t for one long minute until he remembered the spell. Cold panic surged through him. Did they have another collar for him?
He was grateful now that Malcolm did what he did to keep him human the first time, but that had been the worst day of hislife by an order of magnitude, and he didn’t think he could stand it again. After a second, he realized the leather wasn’t pulsing; it was just a reminder.
