(Kaelen)
He tells me at breakfast. Casual, the way he drops things he's already decided — not asking, just informing, but without the arrogance that would make it irritating. Just: "We're hunting this morning. Wear something you can shift in."
I look up from my coffee. "I don't hunt."
"You do now." He takes a piece of toast. Reads something on his phone. Completely unconcerned with my objection.
"Theron."
"Mm."
"I said I don't—"
"I heard you." He sets the phone down. Looks at me. "When did you last shift?"
I open my mouth. Close it.
The honest answer is six weeks before I came here. Which means nearly three months. Which means my wolf has been living inside a human body for three months with nowhere to go, pacing the walls, pressing against the inside of my skin like something try
