Page 134 of Full Moon
Chapter 59
Easton
I leanagainst the wall with my arms crossed, watching as Khal stretches out on the couch and drifts off to sleep. The rest of us stay alert, our attention fixed on Feray as she paces restlessly across the room. There's an anxious energy radiating from her that sets my teeth on edge. The idea of not being able to shift is clearly gnawing at her, visible in the way her fingers twitch and her body coils tight like a spring about to snap. "My flame," I say softly, "why don't you shift now and let her out? Maybe both of you will settle down some."
Her expression shifts through a storm of emotions, narrowing then softening before her eyes suddenly flash ice blue. A decision made in that split second, and I barely have time to brace myself before the pressure in the room builds thick and tangible as her body trembles.
Then, with a quick breath, she shifts. The change happens so fast that the air itself seems to tighten around us. For a heartbeat, everything feels dense and charged, my lungs constricting and my pulse kicking up until—pop—the pressure breaks as her wolf form solidifies. There's something electric about thetransformation, something I've never quite been able to put my finger on, but it must be unique to winter wolves.
Her wolf pads over to me, and I'm taken aback by how massive she's become. Her head nearly reaches my shoulder, thick fur rippling with each powerful step she takes. I stare at her for a moment, sizing her up, before letting out a low chuckle.
"I could probably slap a saddle on your back and ride you like a horse," I joke, reaching out to brush my hand through the thick fur at her neck.
Her laughter fills my head, warm and amused.Use the chair and climb on. I'm curious if I can support your weight—between you and Khal, you're the lightest built out of my mates.
"I know that look," Torben rumbles as he steps closer, his presence heavy in the room as always. "What did our mate say to you?"
I drag the chair closer to her, my grin widening. "She thinks she can carry either me or Khal if we ever need to get out of somewhere fast."
Torben's brow furrows in disbelief as his gaze flicks between me and Feray. "You can fly..."
"That's true, but Khal can't, and if either of us can't shift for whatever reason, this would be good to know." I throw caution to the wind and swing a leg over Feray's back, settling just behind her shoulders with her soft, thick fur beneath my fingers as I grip the scruff of her neck. She starts walking with slow, deliberate steps, and I rock slightly from side to side with each one.
"It's not too hard to hold on," I admit, though the motion feels anything but graceful. "But probably not ideal."
Just as I slide off her back, the door creaks open and Diaval strolls in with a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze flickers over me. "You do realize the important bits are under her tail, not on her shoulders, right, old man?"
I shake my head, rolling my eyes at him. Diaval, of all people, being a wiseass. "Feray wanted to see if, in an emergency, she could carry either Khal or me. Since Khal needs a nap to drive all night, I gave it a go."
Turning my attention back to Feray, I can't ignore the anxious energy that clings to her like static before a storm. Her pacing grows more frantic with each passing minute, paws leaving faint impressions on the worn floor as she circles the room over and over again. My gut twists as I watch her, helpless as her anxiety bleeds into mine and the room seems to shrink with every lap she takes.
"Being unable to shift is not going to sit well with her for this length of time," I murmur, "especially being trapped in the car until we hit Briarvale." Whatever's happening behind the scenes, I hate that it's making her suffer.
Feray has been curledup in her wolf form for about an hour now, the soft rise and fall of her breath barely noticeable in the dim light. But I know her well enough to recognize the signs—the idea of being trapped for so long is grating on her nerves, andeven in sleep, she twitches every now and then like she's ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
The tension in the air has become suffocating, and I can't shake the feeling that something's coming. I feel it in my bones, a dark premonition that makes my phoenix stir restlessly in the back of my consciousness.
"What are we going to do?" I ask, turning to Diaval where he's watching our mate with that same intense, thoughtful look he always has when things go south.
"I'm not sure," he replies, fingers absentmindedly stroking his short beard as he contemplates the situation. "They didn't specify the size of the wolf they were looking for, so it's possible they only caught sight of one of her pack mates." It's thin hope, and we both know it.
Torben strides back in, breaking the tense silence as he holds out several scarves with a grim expression. "For now, we need to take every precaution." There's an edge to his voice, something raw and barely contained. "I want to wrap Feray's hair in one of these—it's too unique, too recognizable." He hesitates, glancing down as if weighed by something heavier than the scarves in his hands. "Her hair is from her mother's bloodline. They'll know exactly who she is the moment they see it."
His bear's eyes flash as guilt gnaws visibly at him. "It's probably why the mages and witches targeted her so viciously. The herbs, the toxins... they were designed to kill her." His voice breaks, the pain in his face mirroring my own as the weight of his words settles over us. "Everything was calculated. They wanted her dead before she ever became what she is now."
Diaval and I exchange a look, a silent agreement passing between us as we acknowledge what we've been wrestling with in secret for weeks. "We came to the same conclusion," I say, my voice low and barely keeping the anger from bubbling over. "Everything that was done to her was intentional."
"They've been hunting her since before she was born," Diaval adds, his voice rumbling with barely contained fury.
The hairs on Feray's wolf bristle in response to our words, and in an instant, she's awake—hackles raised, head lowered, teeth bared with no hesitation as she prowls toward the door with deadly intent. Her gaze is fixed on the entrance, eyes glowing ice blue as I hear the deep inhales while she sniffs the space between the door and frame. Frost spreads from where her breath hits the wood, and the temperature plummets so fast that my own breath fogs in the suddenly frigid air. She's ready for a fight, and whatever she's sensing is close—far too close for comfort.
I reach over and shake Khal awake, watching as he blinks once before grogginess instantly gives way to sharp focus. Without a word, I hand him his sunglasses, and he slips them on with practiced ease, nodding as he slides smoothly into position beside Feray. The faint shimmer of scales spreading across his neck tells me he's armoring up, and I can only assume the rest of his body is shielded as well.
When Khal leans in close to whisper something to Feray, whatever he says makes her tense before she moves swiftly behind the door, her footsteps barely a whisper on the cold floor. Every nerve in my body tingles with the weight of unseen danger as I cup my hand and summon the heat of my phoenix, feeling the familiar burn as flames pulse in my palm, ready to launch at whatever waits on the other side.
The air grows thick with tension, palpable and electric, and I can taste the threat like a metallic tang sticking to the back of my throat. The wrongness of it crawls over my skin like ants, confirming what I already know—they found us. Somehow, impossibly, they found us.
Khal lifts his hand toward the doorknob, fingers curling with deliberate slowness as he silently counts down.
