Normally, the urge to shift is a constant tug of war between me and my wolf. Most times, all it takes is for me to stop fighting the urge to shift. After that, I turn furry. So that’s what I do now—I drop my guard and let my wolf take over.
Only, nothing happens.
I speak to my wolf in my mind. “You can be free now.”
“No fight strange man. I only come out to run.”
“What’s happening?” asks Knox. “What’s your wolf saying?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “She doesn’t want to come out.”
Knox stalks closer. “It isn’t a choice anymore. Your wolf needs to appear. I need to hear you say I can bring her out.”
My palms turn slick with sweat. I couldn’t stop shifting before, and now I can’t start. This simply has to end. And if anyone can help me master this, it’s Knox. “Do it.”
Knox sets his hands on my shoulders. Waves of power rush through me. Every cell in my body feels charged with energy, only it’s not mine. Knox is calling my wolf to appear.
Dots of golden light cloud my vision. My spine twists and lengthens. White fur erupts across my skin. My face becomes a muzzle filled with long white fangs. Yet another cute outfit gets torn to shreds.
I become a wolf.
Light and power surround Knox as well. Golden brightness shoots out from his skin as he transforms into a giant black wolf. His animal faces mine and speaks. Knox’s wolf voice is a basso rumble. “Heed my commands. I’m your Alpha.”
All of a sudden, it’s like I’m floating outside my wolf-body, watching everything from above. I’m no longer in control; my wolf is. Panic streams through my soul.
It’s happened. I’ve gone feral.
With all my willpower, I struggle to regain control of my body. But when my muzzle opens, it’s my wolf who speaks, not me.
“I want to run and be free,” my wolf growls at Knox. A frantic gleam shines in her eyes. She still doesn’t know Knox is our mate. “I will destroy you if you hinder me.”
Those words are like knives—each one cuts into me. It’s just like Knox said—when a wolf goes feral, it hits hard and fast. And now, another version of myself is threatening to kill Knox. It’s too terrible to be true.
Wolf-Knox replies in a low growl. “You won’t kill me.”
“I wield all three kinds of magic,” continues my wolf. “I can kill anything.”
“Raw strength doesn’t make you an Alpha.”
“Last chance. Let me free or die.”
Strangely enough, some small part of me actually feels sorry for my wolf. The way my wolf looks and talks? She truly is losing her mind. On the other hand, more of me is terrified that I’ll spend the rest of my life hovering over my own wolfish form, completely powerless.
Go get her, Knox.
Wolf-Knox digs in his front paws, lowers his head, and bares his teeth. “Do. Your. Best.”
I watch in horror as my wolf-self lunges at Wolf-Knox. From my floating spot above the fray, I watch our animals war it out—one white and one black against a backdrop of green grass. Wolf-Knox moves first. He leaps in, pinning my wolf to the ground. My animal rakes her claws along Wolf-Knox’s belly. He roars and flinches. The movement is enough of a break for my wolf. She kicks Wolf-Knox off her. My mate goes flying across the field, his claws digging into the soil to stop the force of the throw. A long line of torn-up grass opens in his wake.
From my perch in the sky, I watch the fight in terror. My body may feel numb, but my soul is a raw nerve of worry. My wolf is crazy-strong. What if she hurts Knox?
Wolf-Knox turns around and charges at my wolf. She crouches low on her front paws, getting ready for the eventual attack. At the last moment, Wolf-Knox leaps into the air. He’s a blur of black power as he whips over my white wolf’s prone form. A moment later, Wolf-Knox lands behind my wolf, taking out her back legs with a great swipe of his front paws. The air around the two shimmers with power.
Knox’s Alpha energy.
My wolf gets flipped onto her back. Wolf-Knox leaps atop her. In a fluid motion, he has his canines set against my wolf’s throat.
“Relent,” he growls.
A long moment follows while my wolf pauses, considering what to do next. The vibrations of Alpha power turn more intense. The area around Wolf-Knox and my animal starts to vibrate, reminding me of heat waves rolling off asphalt on a summer day.
My wolf shivers as the tension leaves her body. I know the moment when she gives in to the magic. “I relent, my mate.”
And then, I feel.
The waves of Knox’s Alpha power move through me again, warming my soul and strengthening my resolve. A heartbeat later, I find myself pulled back inside my own wolf-body. I’m on my back, my hind claws scraping across Wolf-Knox’s abdomen. Knox doesn’t budge. I’m pinned, end of story. Immediately, I relax my legs and expose my own neck. It’s the wolf way to show submission. The fight is over.
Wolf-Knox nuzzles into me, speaking in a low grumble. “That’s my Bry.”
“I never want to go feral again.” Searching my soul, I check on my wolf. She’s exhausted and barely conscious.
“Mate,” whispers my wolf. “We’re with our mate.”
Usually, I feel a little strange when my wolf calls Knox our mate, but this time? It sounds pretty awesome. “That’s right. Knox is our mate.”
Wolf-Knox tilts his head. “How’s your animal?” he asks.
“Ready for a nap. Can she fall asleep while I’m all furry?”
“Sure, if you want her to. You chose this form.”
I lean my head back into the grass. “No, I didn’t. You chose it for me.”
“I’m just showing you how it’s done. Did you feel the magic flow from me into you? Next time, you need to do that inside yourself, sending your own magic into your wolf. You’ve got a lot more power inside you than I do. You can do this, Bry. Set loose all three kinds of magic.”
“The last time I set all my magic loose, I killed Jules. It’s not safe.” A lead weight of worry settles into my stomach. Some days, I feel like a ticking bomb, ready to blow away everyone around me and powerless to know how to control the explosion.
“It feels unsafe because you aren’t used to it. But you’ll get there. You’ve got strength of heart, Bry.” He nuzzles into my neck once more. “That’s what’s most important.”
For a hot second, everything feels right in the world. “Keep telling me that, and one day I might believe it.”
“You’ve discovered my master plan.” Knox leaps aside and starts trotting off toward the trees.
I hop back onto all four paws. “Where are you going?”
“For a run, of course.”
“What about the art opening? I should meet the other students from West Lake.”
Knox’s eyes flare with golden light. “You’ll meet them soon enough. I almost lost you back there. Right now, I don’t want to share you with anyone.”
Once Knox speaks the words, I realize they are true for me as well. “Race you to the woods.”
“That’s my Bry.”
I take off for the tree line as fast as my paws can carry me. The night deepens. An owl hoots. Knox races along beside me. I’ve never felt more loved and free.
Chapter Four
It’s close to midnight by the time Knox and I finish our run. All too soon, we’ve both returned to our human forms and are driving back to the city. Knox keeps extra clothes on his property for when he shifts, but I go through mine at a much faster rate than he does. Right now, I’m wearing a pair of his gym shorts—which I have to hold on to with one hand or they fall down—and a black T-shirt that comes down to my knees.
Plus, I like wearing Knox’s stuff. It smells like him. That might be wolfy of me, but what can I say? I am a were, after all.
Still, it’d be nice to have my own stuff too. Elle and I really need to finalize our plans about going fae shopping. I can’t spend the rest of my life looking like a slob, not to mention the
amateur paparazzi issue. Nothing says I’m a werewolf like walking around Manhattan barefoot in ill-fitting clothes with leaves stuck in your hair. I might as well wear a sign that says “Magicorum selfies here.”
My gaze locks again on the rearview mirror. It might be my imagination, but is that the same black pickup truck that I saw before we left the city?
“Hey, Knox?”
“What’s up?”
I gesture toward the mirror, but the pickup truck is gone. “I thought I saw someone following us.”
“What did the—” Knox’s cell phone starts beeping like crazy. “One sec.” He pulls the device out of a cup holder and checks the screen. “Damn. It’s a text from Az. Something’s up at Lucky’s bar. Mind if we take a detour?”
“Not at all.”
All thoughts of the pickup truck disappear from my mind. Azizi is not only Knox’s honorary father, he’s an old were who grows weaker by the day. Magic is all about balance. Azizi is the previous shifter warden. Knox is the new one. As Knox grows more powerful, Azizi moves closer to death.
“Did the text say what’s going on?” I ask.
“No, just to head over to Lucky’s ASAP.” Lucky’s bar is a were-only place. Azizi lives in one of the back rooms of Lucky’s bar. Knox grips the steering wheel more tightly. “Damn, I hope he’s okay.” He glances at his phone again. “And now his phone is off.”
A chill settles over my skin. Az usually stays in his wolf form, so he rarely turns his phone on, let alone uses it. In fact, it’s something that makes Knox a little crazy. Az never calls Knox to ask for anything, even if he needs a healer or food. Azizi is all old school. No tech. No help. That makes this text super-weird.
Knox eyes me carefully. “On second thought, maybe I should take you home first. I have no idea what we’re getting into.”
My rebel-reflex kicks in. “I’m going. And after what just happened, you know I’m good in a fight.”
A small smile rounds Knox’s full mouth. “That you are.”
We turn down a side street in Brooklyn, and there it is: a beat-up wooden house on a street corner lined with other beat-up wooden houses. There’s a small sign reading “Lucky’s” and a flight of stairs going underground. Normally, there’s no one near the place. Not so tonight.
The place is overrun with humans.
They stand in a long line down the darkened street: men, women, and even kids. All of them have cameras and expectant looks on their faces. As we tool up to the curb, a hundred cells lift in our direction. Voices echo through the night.
“They might be weres.”
“Get it on video.”
“Mommy, you promised to show me a real-life werewolf.”
In my opinion, that last comment was the ultimate in crazy. Seriously, who thinks it’s a good idea to drag their kid to a bar in Brooklyn to see a werewolf? I scan the line of humans.
A lot of parents, evidently.
Knox kills the engine. This particular stretch of curb isn’t a legal parking spot, but we don’t have time to find a garage. The Mustang’s windows are tinted. We can see out, but the humans can’t see in. And based on what I see outside? This scene has all the makings of a disaster. Lucky’s is a were-only club for a reason. The shifters who come here do not want to interact with humans.
Knox thumps his palm on the steering wheel. “Damn, there are weres at Lucky’s with a serious vendetta against humans. This could push them over the edge.”
I lean over and grip his wrist. “You stopped me. You can help them, too.”
At this point, I don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Lucky’s is overrun with humans or that Knox knows so much about his fellow weres. Knox has been really clear that he doesn’t want to be Alpha over anyone. Looks like he’s keeping an eye on some of his fellow weres anyway.
“Let’s hit it.” Knox and I step out onto the sidewalk, and the place erupts. Everywhere, folks are shouting for us to take a picture or tell us if we’re really werewolves. Someone tosses a silver dollar at my face while shouting at me to tell them if I’m allergic to silver. A woman in some kind of robe chants in a made-up language while spraying lavender perfume in the air. All the while, she asks for my wolf to come out.
Thankfully, my wolf is still happily zonked out inside me, or she’d definitely freak out and shift at this scene. I hightail it toward the main door of Lucky’s. The bouncer is a big guy—should be; he’s a werewolf. Knox pulls me against his side as he addresses the bouncer. “What’s up, Gage?”
“Wards stopped working,” says Gage. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“How’s Azizi?” I ask. “Is he all right?”
“Not all right,” replies Gage. “More like amped to the max. The old wolf is calling for war. You two need to see him. Calm him down if you can.” Gage shoves open the door. A wave of music, voices, and smells pours out onto the street. Knox and I wave to Gage as we shove our way into the crowded space. Lucky’s was always a snug space filled with lots of high-tops and a long wooden bar, but it’s never felt more crowded than it has now. Even with our extra shifter strength, it seems to take forever for me and Knox to reach the back wall.
Humans cluster around anyone oversized and gruff looking, figuring they must be a were. Unfortunately, they’re spot on. A few have cameras on selfie sticks and are narrating their own YouTube channels.
“Smile at the nice wolf-man while Mommy takes your picture.”
“Can you believe this, viewers? I’ve found an actual shifter bar right here in Brooklyn.”
In terms of the werewolves, they’re standing frozen in place, looking shell-shocked or ready to rip out the nearest throat. This situation has seconds left before some bad stuff happens.
In the far corner, there’s a door that leads to Azizi’s room. It’s been ripped off its hinges. Humans have jammed themselves into the hallway. Some are drinking. Others laughing. More seem to be pounding on the doors, asking for the weres inside to “come out and play.”
My breath catches. Azizi is behind one of those doors. I saw what that old were did to the army of zombie-mummies. He may look old, but Azizi can still kill with the best of them when his blood is up.
Those humans really don’t want him to come out and play.
Knox and I share a quick look. I can scent the worry and rage simmering on him; the smell of burning charcoal seeps from his pores. His wolf is close to the surface as well. Hints of golden light flicker in Knox’s eyes. Not good. If the humans see that, we’ll never get close to Azizi. Knox will get swarmed for sure. And then? I shudder.
Fortunately, while Knox’s wolf is ready to appear, mine is still konked out. I don’t think we could handle this if both of us were ready to shift. I link my fingers with his. “Follow me.”
Pulling on Knox’s arm, I guide him through the crowded hallway. I may stomp toes and bump shoulders along the way, but this is New York. If you can’t handle jostling in a crowd, move somewhere else.
Soon we reach Azizi’s door. Knox tries to open it, but the old were is leaning against the wood. The door will open an inch or two, enough to reveal a wall of gray fur. That’s definitely Azizi.
“It’s us, Azizi!” I yell. “Knox and Bry. Let us in.”
The door opens a crack. Part of a grizzled human face is visible through the shadows. I’ve never seen Azizi as anything but a wolf before. Now I can tell that his human side has cocoa-dark skin, a deeply lined face, and a shock of grey hair atop his head. He scans Knox and me for a moment before speaking.
“Come in.”
Knox and I slip into the room. Like always, the place looks pretty bare: concrete floor, no furniture. By the time we enter, Az has already shifted back to his wolf form. Instead of a grizzled old human, now a massive gray animal stalks the floor. For his part, Knox takes up Az’s old position of leaning against the doorway to keep the humans out.
Az’s fur is standing on edge and his eyes are golden bright. “Thank you for coming. I need help
getting these fools out of my den. If I go out there, I’ll tear them apart.”
“You can call me anytime.” Behind Knox’s back, the door shimmies as humans try to open it. “What happened to the wards, Az?”
“You must find the fountain. Magic is changing.”
The fountain part is nothing new. There are wardens for all three kinds of magic: were, warlock, and fairy. Knox is the warden for shifters; Alec has that job for witches and warlocks. We don’t know who’s the warden for the fae, but all three of them are supposed to be guarding the fountain of magic. Trouble is, no one knows where the fountain is. My hobby—okay, it’s more of an obsession—is translating the Book of Isis to try to find the fountain. In fact, I’ve spent years dreaming about ancient Egypt and translating ancient papyri, all of it about the Book of Isis. So the fountain part isn’t new. The other stuff is a revelation, though.
“What do you mean, magic is changing?” I ask Az.
“The wards were strong. They simply changed from wards to beacons. Attracted humans instead of repelled them.”
Alec placed about a dozen warding spells here to keep humans away from Lucky’s. There are castings to hide the building, cause irrational fear to anyone who gets close, you name it. To human eyes, they look like regular rocks on the sidewalk.
“That doesn’t make sense,” says Knox. “Alec is a strong wizard. I’ve never seen one of his spells fail.”
“Not fail,” corrects Az. “Flip. All magic is changing now.”
Knox and I share a long look. If magic is changing, it probably means something not good for the wardens who guard it. “How does this affect Knox?” I ask.
Az finally pauses from his nonstop pacing. “I don’t know. I can’t think with all these humans around. I must get these fools out of my den.”
“We’re on it,” says Knox.
Az sits and tilts his massive head. “You stop it,” growls Az. “I need to speak with Bryar Rose. Alone.”
Knox and I exchange another long look. His scent changes again; this time, it has the acidic tang of worry. “I’ll be fine,” I say. “Clear out the humans before trouble starts.”
Moonlight and Midtown Page 3