15
The air is utterly still, hot but dry. I lift my hair from my shoulders, tying it in a high pony. Nico’s testosterone shot is still doing its work. I see his eyes wander over my briefly exposed midriff, and he instantly shifts into a werewolf, bolting out into the sands before coming back.
“Okay,” he says, when he returns—he pauses to give himself a shake. Sand flies from his fur in all directions. Apparently satisfied, he changes back to his human form. It’s funny how he doesn’t look any less dangerous as a boy. He jerks his head toward me. “I can still shift. Now you.”
“Huh?” I hadn’t even considered that maybe I couldn’t. I remember the panicked look on Greg’s face, and feel a tickle of fear in my belly. I just figured this out, please don’t take it away.
It hasn’t been. I’m a mi
