Lowen
By four in the afternoon, I had stopped feeling my hands.
Rhett had called the drill at dawn, and I had run it with him, and then run it again, because the pack needed to see its Alpha bleed a little before it would believe in anything. We'd spent six hours on the north field. Sparring in pairs, then in threes. Shifting on command and shifting back, over and over, until the change came out of the bones without asking. The wolves had watched Celeste's silver light drain the color out of the sky a week ago, and every one of them was still doing the math on what that meant. I'd decided the cure for that was sweat.
It had worked, mostly. The pups had stopped flinching when she walked past. Tobin had grinned at me, once, across the dirt, with a split lip and no malice at all. But my sh
