Chapter 19 Felix #3
Ah. I still hadn’t got around to telling him about Wren yet. I accidentally let out a laugh, and Kit stared at me like I’d just sprouted a second head.
“I’m serious,” Kit said, his voice almost wounded.
“So, I… maybe should have corrected you a while back, but I was confused why you kept bringing Wren up. But anyway, I’m not… with Wren. He’s just a friend. Not my boyfriend.”
Kit went completely still. Only his eyes moved, blinking slowly as if his brain had crashed and was attempting to reboot.
“Wren… is… just… a friend?” he repeated back, as if I’d been speaking French.
I nodded.
“What do you mean? I… I…” He rubbed his hand over his face, the gears visibly turning behind his eyes, a processor struggling with corrupted data.
I sighed. “So he was interested in me, initially. Remember when Emma told everyone he wanted to take me for coffee last Christmas? Then, I was so anxious that I acted like a complete freak every time I went to Fat Cat’s, so he didn’t ask me out for months.
Then we sort of dated a bit? Sort of?” I shuffled, remembering that hilariously awkward time where I had no idea what was going on.
“But we decided to be friends. It’s really that simple. ”
Kit shook his head like it wasn’t simple at all. “I saw him put his arm around you!”
“Yeah, Wren’s super touchy-feely. With everyone. It’s disturbing, but I had to get with the programme.”
“Right…” Kit said slowly. “So just friends. Got it.”
His face split into a wide grin—handsomely boyish—and I ducked my head shyly, a warm flush shooting straight to my cheeks.
“So… are we going to do the wolf thing?” I said. “You know, the reason for coming all the way out here? What happened to ‘We’re here to train, not chat?’ Unless this was all a guise to interrogate me about my love life? Or lack of one?”
Kit scoffed, then jumped to his feet. “Right. Yes. Training.” He brushed dirt off his trousers, appearing slightly flustered. “Okay, let’s just have you getting used to me first. My size.” His eyes widened, and he grimaced. “I mean, as a wolf. My wolf’s size.”
I stared at him. “Yes…”
“I’ll shift behind those trees.” He pointed to a cluster of oaks. “When I come back out…” He paused, running a hand through his thick mane of hair. “When I come back out, remember, I’ll still be me. Just, you know. Differently shaped.”
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “You’ll be able to completely understand me, yeah?”
“Every word.” His voice gentled. “My thoughts will be different, but I’ll be in complete control. I promise, Felix. I would never hurt you.”
Sincerity sparkled in his eyes.
“I know.”
Kit disappeared into the treeline, and soon there was the rustle of fabric. I stared determinedly at the leafy ground, trying not to think about Kit naked just a few metres away.
A low, rumbling sound forced my gaze up.
The wolf that emerged from the trees was massive. Easily twice the size of any wolf I’d seen in documentaries, with thick grey fur and darker markings around his face and ears. A jagged scar ran over his left eye, the same one Kit bore in human form, now more pronounced.
And those eyes, so unmistakably Kit, even though they were amber now, gleaming in the sunlight. Watching me with the same careful intensity he always did.
“Bloody hell,” I whispered. “I always forget how enormous you are.”
The wolf—Kit—made a sound that might have been laughter.
He padded closer, moving with that same grace I recognised from his human form, and sat down about two metres away.
Close enough that I could see the individual hairs of his coat, the way his ears twitched at every small sound, but far enough that I didn’t feel crowded.
“So,” I said, my voice slightly strangled. “Are you going to pretend to attack me? Because you haven’t actually taught me how to fight off a wolf yet.”
A low snort escaped him, then he tilted his head, ears pricked forward.
Powerful muscles shifted as he moved to circle me—not stalking, just positioning himself.
His nose bumped against my shoulder blade, and I almost jumped out of my skin.
Warm breath tickled against the back of my neck as he gave a wolfy chuckle.
My shoulders tensed automatically, every muscle in my body screaming that I had a massive, deadly predator directly behind me.
“Right,” I said, my voice coming out hilariously high. “So what exactly is the proper defensive position when a wolf is breathing down your neck? Did we cover this in our ballroom sessions?”
Kit padded around to my side, large eyes fixed on my face. He was studying me—watching for any sign of genuine fear or discomfort. When he seemed satisfied that I was more nervous than terrified, he moved to circle me again, this time brushing against my shoulder.
The contact made me lurch sideways. Kit immediately froze, ears flattening against his head as he let out a concerned whine. He backed away several steps, lowering his head.
“No, no, it’s fine,” I said quickly, holding up my hands. “I’m just rubbish at balance. Always have been. You didn’t hurt me.”
Kit tilted his massive head, unconvinced.
I couldn’t help but note Wolf Kit was a lot more patient with my athletic shortcomings than Human Kit. “Seriously, I once fell over putting on socks. This is entirely within normal parameters for me.”
Kit made a sound that was definitely laughter this time—a sort of huffing noise that shook his entire frame. Then, to my complete surprise, he dropped into what was possibly a play bow. Front legs stretched out in front of him, backside high in the air, tail wagging enthusiastically.
I stared at him. “Oh, you’re just an overgrown puppy, aren’t you?”
Kit’s tail wagged harder, and before I could process what was happening, he launched himself at me in what might generously be called a tackle. Except it was the gentlest tackle in the history of tackles—more like being nudged by a very large, very fluffy battering ram.
We tumbled to the forest floor together, Kit managing to control his descent so that his full weight didn’t crush me. I found myself on my back with an enormous wolf hovering over me, panting happily.
“Get off, you great beast!” I laughed, trying to push at his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain. A mountain with incredibly soft fur and kind eyes.
Kit whined and shifted his weight, but instead of getting off me entirely, he seemed determined to fit as much of himself as possible into my personal space. His massive head dropped to rest against my shoulder, and I felt the rumble of what could only be described as a purr.
“You’re not a cat,” I told him, but my hand had found its way to the thick fur behind his ears almost without conscious thought. The moment my fingers made contact, Kit melted completely. His eyes rolled back, and he let out a sound of pure bliss that vibrated through his entire body.
“How is something so terrifying this soft?” I marvelled, running my fingers through the surprisingly silky fur at his neck. Kit pressed into the touch shamelessly, any pretence of dignity or “training” apparently abandoned.
There was something oddly freeing about this—Kit perhaps couldn’t overthink as a wolf, couldn’t second-guess every gesture or worry about crossing lines. He just was. Present and warm and desperately seeking affection in the most uncomplicated way possible.
His enormous tongue darted out and swiped across my cheek before I could dodge.
“Ugh, Kit!” I squealed, trying to turn my face away, but I was laughing too hard to put up any real resistance. “That’s disgusting!”
He took this as encouragement, apparently, because the next lick caught me square across the mouth. I spluttered and pushed at his snout, but Kit’s tail was going like a metronome and he looked insufferably pleased with himself.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I accused, but I couldn’t stop grinning. “You’re meant to be pretending you want to eat me, remember?”
Kit nuzzled against my neck, and I felt the gentle scrape of his teeth—not threatening, just playing. But something about the contact, the warmth of his breath against my throat, sent my stomach bursting into butterflies.
Abruptly, Kit fell very still. His head lifted, amber eyes meeting mine, and I saw something shift in them. He pulled back abruptly, ears flicking. Then he nudged my shoulder, trying to turn me onto my side.
“Huh?” I asked, but I followed his guidance, rolling over to face the trees. Behind me came rustling, then the sickening crack and pop of bones reshaping themselves. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to think about what that must feel like.
The sounds stopped after what felt like an eternity but was probably less than a minute.
“Hey.” Kit’s voice, rough, breathless.
I twisted back to face him, immediately forcing myself to keep my eyes fixed firmly on his face. Pine needles nestled in Kit’s hair as he propped himself up on one elbow, his chest still rising and falling rapidly from the exertion of shifting.
“Hey,” I managed back, equally breathless despite having done nothing more strenuous than lie on the forest floor and be licked.
Kit’s gaze was intense, searching my face for something I couldn’t name. The playfulness from moments before had transformed into something entirely different—something that made blood rush through my ears as my heart pounded.
“Sorry,” Kit said. “I had to shift back. My wolf… he was getting out of control. You tasted too good.”
My cheeks burned. “I thought you said you would have complete control!”
Kit winced, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Yeah, I massively underestimated my wolf’s excitement at…” He trailed off.
I let out a nervous laugh that pitched too high. “Were you scared you were actually going to eat me?”
A wolfish grin spread across Kit’s face—all teeth and mischief. “I just wasn’t sure how much saliva you wanted to be drenched in.”