Chapter Nine #2
This wasn’t that. His bones rearranged with sounds that were too quiet to be called cracks but too distinct to be ignored.
Fur sprouted across his skin in a wave, dark brown and black spreading from his shoulders down his back, across his arms, down his legs.
His face shifted, jaw extending, ears lengthening, and those light brown eyes stayed fixed on me the entire time.
The whole thing took maybe ten seconds. Probably less.
Then a massive wolf stood where Riot had been.
I scrambled backward onto the bed so fast my elbow slipped, and I nearly face-planted into the headboard. My feet left the floor entirely. Knees drawn up, back pressed against the wooden frame, I stared at the creature in the middle of the bedroom.
He was huge. That was my first thought. Not Noodles/Gunner huge.
Actually huge. The kind of size that made every survival instinct in my body start screaming.
Dark fur with lighter patches around his muzzle and chest.
Paws the size of dinner plates. A tail that hung still and low, not wagging but not tucked either.
The wolf dropped to its belly on the rug, head resting on its front paws.
Waiting. The posture was unmistakable. Submissive without being cowed.
Patient without being pushy. Those brown eyes watched me from across the room, and I recognized the intelligence behind them.
Riot was still in there. Still aware. Still him.
Just…furrier.
“Holy crap,” I whispered.
The wolf’s ears swiveled forward.
“You’re—you’re really big. Like unreasonably big. Has anyone ever told you that? Because someone should.”
The tail gave one slow thump against the floor.
My heart was beating like crazy, a rhythm that couldn’t decide between terror and fascination. The static in the air had faded, leaving behind the faint smell of something wild. Pine and earth and the ozone tang of a storm that had already passed.
“You’re not going to eat me.” I said it out loud because I needed to hear it. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me, and you’re a wolf who keeps his promises. Right? Wolf promises. Are those a thing?”
Another tail thump.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Slowly, so slowly, I uncurled my legs and let them dangle over the edge of the bed. The mattress creaked under the shift in weight. The wolf didn’t move. Its eyes tracked my movements, but the rest of it stayed perfectly still.
“I’m trying to process this.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
“A week ago, my biggest concern was whether Mrs. Hensley would ever stop apologizing. Now I was sitting in a biker wolf’s bedroom, looking at a creature that shouldn’t exist, and trying to figure out if I’d lost my mind or just my standards.”
The wolf made a sound that might’ve been a sneeze or might’ve been amusement. Its tail swept across the rug once.
“You can understand me, right?” I gripped the edge of the mattress with both hands. “This is real. You’re real. I’m not hallucinating, and I haven’t been drugged, and this isn’t some elaborate prank involving animatronics.”
The wolf’s ears swiveled. Its head tilted slightly.
“You’re listening to me ramble and probably wondering why I’m such a disaster.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “It wasn’t too fast or too much. Your motive I mean. I haven’t felt seen since my dad died.”
My throat tightened like it always did when I thought of him.
“My mom works two jobs, so I rarely see her. But she hasn’t been my mom since she lost my dad. We used to be close, but now it feels like I live with a stranger.”
The wolf edged closer, one slow, careful step at a time. When his head reached the edge of the mattress, he stopped. His nose was maybe six inches from my knee. Close enough that I could see the individual strands of fur around his muzzle—some silver, some brown, all of it thick and healthy.
I should’ve been terrified of him, the same way the puppy had nearly given me a heart attack. Strangely, I wasn’t.
“You’re easy to talk to, wolf man.” I hesitated for a beat then cautiously reached toward his head. Even though I knew I was safe, the wolf was massive. “I’m dying to pet you, so please keep your sharp teeth away from my delicious flesh.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
The wolf licked the inside of my wrist.
“No taste-testing allowed.” I touched his fur.
It was softer than I’d expected. Not coarse or wiry but thick and smooth, with a dense undercoat that my fingers sank into.
The wolf leaned into the contact, pressing his head against my palm, and a sound rumbled from his chest that wasn’t quite a growl.
More like a purr. Did wolves purr? This one apparently did.
“Oh my god, you’re a giant puppy.” Relief flooded through me so fast my eyes stung with it. “A massive, terrifying puppy who could definitely eat me but chooses not to. This is fine. This is totally fine.”
The wolf nudged my palm with his nose when I stopped stroking his head. Cold and wet, just like a dog’s. I laughed. The sound came out watery and a little unhinged, but it was a laugh.
“You’re kind of beautiful, actually. In a terrifying way. Don’t let it go to your head.”
His tail wagged harder, thumping against the side of the bed with a solid whump-whump-whump that vibrated through the frame.
I kept stroking his fur, letting the rhythm calm the last of my racing heart. My fingers traced the line of his skull, the soft patch behind his ears, the thicker ruff around his neck. He stayed perfectly still for all of it, letting me explore at my own pace.
“So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I scratched behind one ear, and his eyes half closed in what looked like bliss. “This whole time you were a giant wolf, and you just, what? Decided to woo me with food and charm instead of terrifying me with transformation?”
The wolf made a huffing sound that seemed affirmative.
“Smooth. Very smooth.” My hand dropped from his fur and landed in my lap.
“I still have questions. So many questions. But I think I’m done panicking now. Or at least, the panic has downgraded to a manageable level of confusion.”
I slid my hand under his jaw and lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “Are you my unicorn, Riot?”
Instead of answering, the wolf lowered its head and pressed its nose against my knee. A gentle nudge, nothing more. Then it turned and padded toward the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.
I looked away just in time. The sound of bones rearranging came again, quieter this time.
“I’m trying to be,” he said. “Would it frighten you if I said my wolf wants to be your unicorn?”
“That’s—” I stopped, searching for the right word. I wanted to believe him. I’d never felt this way about anyone before.
His mouth curved, and he crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside me, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. The mattress dipped under his weight, and his shoulder pressed against mine, warm and solid. Human-shaped but still carrying that faint scent of pine and wildness.
He brushed strands of hair from my forehead. “Sometimes all you have to do is open your eyes.”
I looked at the door. Then at him. Then at my hands, which had stopped shaking at some point during the fur-petting portion of the evening. “I’m not running. That’s something, right?”
“It’s everything.”
His hand covered mine on the comforter. The touch was gentle, barely there, like he was still giving me space to pull away if I needed to.
I turned my hand over and laced our fingers together.
“My mate,” Riot said. “Same thing as a unicorn. A ride-or-die partner.”
“Someone who makes you feel seen.” I glanced up at him. “You’ve made me feel seen since the first time you looked at me in the rec center. My insides lit up brightly.”
“Me, too, unicorn.”
I laughed as that single word made me light up like the moon.