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Returning to fox form after days spent entirely human should have come as a relief, even more so when I was finally traveling toward my absent mate. But the tethers of my honor guards snapped back into place before I’d gone half a mile, and I ended up slogging slowly through a sodden landscape rather than dancing fleet-footed toward the west.
Still, I was single-mindedly adamant about pushing onward. Even after rational sense reasserted itself and told me that I’d get to Gunner faster if I retreated to the mansion, used Sakurako’s telephone, and called a cab.
Instead, I fought against the magical headwind, pausing only when I reached a vast pool of water that cut me off from running straight toward Gunner. Right or left? Either direction made my stomach equally queasy. And as I racked my brain, trying to remember which route Elle had used to drive here, my attention caught on the reflection in the lake that blocked my path.
I was as familiar with my fox form as I was with my human one. Red fur, white-tipped tail, black nose and paws. But that wasn’t the sight that greeted me in the water. Instead, my pelt had turned so white I might as well have been albino, although my eyes still gleamed black on either side of my head.
I spun in a circle, trying to catch sight of the other obvious visual difference between myself and my grandmother. As best I could tell, I still had only one tail....
And even though the change in coloration—and the change in self it likely represented—was disconcerting, the spinning action managed to unstick my latent sense of direction. Left. I was somehow positive that was the direction closest to Gunner. So I shook off the surprise of being bleached white in an instant and followed the lakeshore south even as the sun sank down toward the west.
I’d be spending the night outside in fur form if I didn’t achieve civilization quickly, which would be annoying given the muddy soil and the lack of dry leaves to nest within. Still it was impatience rather than discomfort that hastened my footsteps. I needed to see Gunner so badly the wish had turned into a physical ache.
Tethers still streamed behind me like anchors. But they were weaker than they had been earlier, less likely to make me stumble and fall. So I picked up the pace and was running headlong when I felt my nails clicking against pavement after topping a short rise.
A road. And this time my tether informed me to turn right instead of left.
Only...there were headlights approaching from that direction. Headlights that materialized into a strangely familiar vehicle—Old Red screeching to a halt.
I leapt upward into humanity as Gunner emerged and raced toward me. I grabbed my mate and clung tightly even as he lifted me off my feet and spun me in a circle as if he was searching for my human tail.
“I love you.” I laughed into the wind of our passing before adding: “But you know that already. Because you came for me.”
His answer made me laugh harder despite the growly undertones. “I would have been here a week earlier if you hadn’t kept telling me to stay away.”
His mouth covered mine for one long, hard moment. Then he separated us long enough to demand precisely what I longed to give him. “I won’t push you to change and you won’t keep me out of your life any longer.”
“Of course not,” I told my forever mate.
***
OUR ROAD TRIP HOME was slow and meandering, but not because of Old Red’s infirmities. While I was gone, Gunner had not only reclaimed my beloved vehicle, he’d also totally replaced everything underneath the hood.
“So, really, she’s not Old Red any longer,” I teased as we got back into the car after stopping for ice cream only a few miles out from clan central. There had been various other treats during the intervening twenty-four hours, the ones in our hotel room largely responsible for the huge grin currently plastered across my face.
“I didn’t replace the car’s body or the interior,” Gunner countered, his hands intertwining with mine atop the center console as if the sixty seconds we’d been separated to get into our respective seats had lasted far too long. My favorite alpha was physically healed but still had a hard time letting a moment pass without touching me. Luckily, that wasn’t a problem since I felt the exact same way.
“We could call her Not-so-old Red,” I suggested. “Or Cinnamon Rocket.” There was some serious horsepower now when I punched down on the gas pedal.
“Or Safer Rustbucket,” Gunner countered even as we turned onto the driveway for clan central and rolled toward the main street.
After that, we fell silent as I remembered that I wouldn’t be sneaking into a cottage on the periphery of the werewolf settlement this time. Kira had made that decision while I was absent, informing me over the phone that Gunner’s addition “is way too cool to leave while you get your panties out of their twist and accept the good thing knocking on your door.”
Despite her mixed metaphors, I decided my sister was surprisingly wise, at least in this instance. As a result, I’d be moving in as the pack leader’s mate today the way I should have done from the beginning. Smiling, I gave Gunner’s hand a squeeze.
Intention was powerful among werewolves, so I wasn’t surprised that bonds zapped toward me out of nowhere as I maneuvered Old Red down the narrow street that bisected clan central. Still, I flinched when the first returning tether struck my stomach, then I held my breath and waited for the strangely orgasmic reaction that had resulted from building connections with Sakurako’s honor guard.
Instead, only a faint hint of warmth infused my belly. And shifter neighbors nodded easy greetings without seeming unduly affected by our presence as we rolled past.
Okay, now I was curious. Given our speed of under ten miles per hour combined with an arrow-straight trajectory, I didn’t hesitate to take my hand off the wheel and tug at one of the stronger bonds connecting me to Gunner’s pack mates. Were Atwood shifters feeding me magic the way Sakurako’s honor guard had, or did the power flow the other way?
“Stop!”
Gunner’s hand spun the wheel sideways even as I slammed on the brakes. And it was a good thing he’d replaced the pads and rotors or I would have struck the bloodling puppy who’d responded to my summoning by launching himself directly into our path.
“Curly!” I threw the car into park and leapt out of the vehicle, knowing I hadn’t hit the youngster but still worried he’d somehow gotten hurt in the process. And as I did so, I could feel my own energy streaming down the tether, perking up Curly’s ears and making him prance with delight.
So this was what a werewolf connection looked like. Energy flowing freely in both directions, from the stronger shifter to wherever it was needed most. This was as different from a kitsune’s tether as day was from night.
And for the first time in over a week, my shoulders relaxed fully. Because, yes, I’d made terrible mistakes getting here. I hadn’t been fast enough or smart enough to save Edward. I’d stolen the humanity from Oyo and from my own grandmother. And I’d thoroughly shaken up the Atwood pack.
But, despite literally changing my skin while denning with my grandmother, Curly recognized me as the same person who had left here a little over a week before. Plus, what I lacked in kitsune power, I now made up for with the wealth of a werewolf pack.
And, apparently, the shifters around me were glad to have me present. Because tethers arrowed in one after another, weaving themselves together like a blanket enfolding my body until it seemed not a single additional tether would fit.
Only there was room for one more after all, as I discovered when the werewolf gossip tree propagated further. There was always room for one more.
Curly, bored by self realization, reared up on his hind legs to claw at my kneecaps, and I answered by hoisting him into my arms. Then I leaned into Gunner—who, predictably, was right there behind me when I needed him. And I stated the obvious.
“It’s good to be home.”