Chapter 8
Aunt Sofia did not answer.
She did, however, send a text six hours later.
DO NOT TRUST ANYONE WHO KNOWS YOUR MOTHER’S MIDDLE NAME.
Jake read it twice.
“That is wildly specific.”
Noah looked sick.
“My mother’s middle name is Mara.”
“After your grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“Who knows it?”
“Family.”
Jake waited.
Noah looked at him.
“Exactly.”
A second message arrived.
MOON TONIGHT. KEEP YOURSELF INSIDE.
Jake looked through the kitchen window.
“Isn’t the full moon next week?”
“For you.”
“That sentence bothers me.”
Noah took the phone.
“The change doesn’t follow astronomy exactly. Not for my family. Stress can pull it forward.”
Jake leaned against the counter.
“And you’ve had a relaxing week.”
Noah gave him a look.
“Where can I go?”
Jake thought about the woods.
“No.”
“I can’t do it here.”
“My mother is downstairs.”
“That is precisely why.”
Jake thought again.
Then smiled.
Noah immediately looked suspicious.
“What?”
“I know a place.”
The old equipment shed behind West Ridge’s abandoned baseball field had not been used in years.
Jake and Marcus had discovered it sophomore year while looking for somewhere to hide after accidentally setting off a smoke bomb.
The windows were boarded.
The door locked from inside.
Most importantly, it was surrounded by six acres of unused field and woods.
Noah looked around.
“You bring all your dates here?”
Jake nearly dropped the flashlight.
“Was that a joke?”
“No.”
“You made a date joke.”
“I’m capable of humor.”
“I’ve seen limited evidence.”
Noah smiled.
Then pain crossed his face.
He doubled over.
Jake caught him.
“Already?”
Noah nodded.
His skin was burning hot.
Jake helped him sit.
“What do I do?”
“Leave.”
“No.”
“Jake.”
“Different answer.”
Noah’s eyes flashed gold.
“Please.”
Jake heard the fear beneath the word.
He crouched in front of him.
“Tell me what you need.”
Noah breathed through another wave of pain.
“Space.”
Jake backed up.
“Done.”
“Don’t touch me when it starts.”
“Okay.”
“And if I lose control—”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jake met his eyes.
“No. I don’t. But I’m still staying.”
The transformation was not beautiful.
Movies had lied.
Noah screamed.
Jake almost broke his promise immediately.
Bones shifted beneath skin.
Noah fell to his hands and knees.
His shirt tore at one shoulder.
Jake backed against the wall, every instinct telling him to help and every promise telling him not to touch.
“Noah.”
“Don’t.”
His voice was barely human.
Jake’s eyes burned.
“I’m here.”
Another crack.
Noah cried out.
Jake kept talking.
About football.
About chemistry.
About Comet stealing half a meatball sandwich when Jake was eleven.
Anything.
Everything.
“I’m here.”
Eventually the screaming stopped.
A wolf stood where Noah had been.
Large.
Dark.
Not monstrous.
Beautiful, actually, though Jake suspected Noah would hate that description.
The wolf stared at him.
Jake stared back.
“Well,” Jake whispered. “You’re definitely not a dog.”
The wolf sneezed.
Jake laughed.
Noah growled.
“Oh, come on. You even do it like this?”
Jake sat on the floor.
The wolf stayed across the shed.
Minutes passed.
Then Noah moved closer.
One step.
Another.
Jake held out his hand.
“Your choice.”
Noah sniffed it.
Then pushed his enormous head beneath Jake’s palm.
Jake’s chest hurt.
Not fear.
Something else.
He scratched behind Noah’s ear.
Noah’s back leg kicked once.
Jake froze.
The wolf froze.
Jake started laughing.
Noah backed away, deeply offended.
“I am taking that to my grave.”
A growl.
“You liked it.”
Louder growl.
“This is the best day of my life.”
Noah lunged.
Jake yelped.
The wolf knocked him onto his back and stood over him.
Jake stopped laughing.
Noah stopped moving.
Their faces were inches apart.
Jake could smell rain.
Pine.
And something inside himself answered.
Pain tore through Jake’s chest.
He screamed.
Noah jumped away.
Jake curled onto his side.
His hearing exploded.
Every cricket outside.
Every leaf.
Noah’s heartbeat.
His own.
Jake looked at his hands.
His nails darkened.
“No.”
Noah shifted back faster than Jake thought possible, collapsing naked beside him.
Jake barely noticed.
“What’s happening?”
Noah grabbed his face.
“Look at me.”
Jake did.
Noah’s eyes were terrified.
“Breathe.”
“My hands.”
“I know.”
“My teeth hurt.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that!”
Noah pressed his forehead to Jake’s.
“Because it happened to me.”
Jake’s vision blurred.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.
His nails returned to normal.
He collapsed.
Noah stayed beside him.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Finally Jake whispered, “You’re naked again.”
Noah laughed helplessly.
Jake did too.
Maybe because they were alive.
Maybe because everything else was too frightening.
Noah pulled the torn shirt across his lap.
“Better?”
“Marginally.”
Jake looked at him.
“What happened to me?”
Noah shook his head.
“That wasn’t a full change.”
“Comforting.”
“But it was the beginning of one.”
“I’m not your family.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t bite me.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
Noah’s gaze dropped to Jake’s mouth.
Jake noticed.
Neither moved.
“Recognition,” Noah whispered.
Jake’s heart sped.
Noah heard it.
Jake knew because Noah’s eyes changed.
“That word again.”
“My grandmother told me there were wolves who could wake each other.”
“Because they’re mates?”
Noah looked away.
Jake sat up.
“Wait.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You thought it.”
“No.”
“You are an unbelievably bad liar.”
Noah stood and reached for the spare clothes.
Jake caught his wrist.
“Is that what you think?”
Noah looked at Jake’s hand around him.
Then at Jake.
“I think I don’t want some old story deciding what you feel about me.”
Jake released him.
“That makes two of us.”
Noah’s face fell slightly.
Jake stood.
Then stepped closer.
“But for the record, whatever I feel when you’re around?”
Noah waited.
Jake smiled.
“I’m pretty sure my hormones figured it out before the wolf did.”