Page 54 of Roguefinder

Jesse smiled at me. “Ready to run?”

A sigh built in my chest. “I don’t mind the running part. It’s the shifting part that sucks.”

His warm brown eyes chased away the gloom. “I packed tiramisu for after.”

I flung off my seatbelt. “You should have led with that.”

The shift came easier than it had in France. Still not what I’d call a good time—and my jaw elongating was its own special kind of hell—but my bones rearranged themselves with more speed than before.

Jesse was already on four legs by the time I finished, and he sniffed me over with the zeal of a TSA officer, poking his nose through my fur and nipping my jaw. When he was seemingly satisfied all my limbs were in the right place, he pressed his flank against mine.

Then he took off in a flash of brown fur.

With a yip, I crashed after him.

We sped over the hills, paws kicking up the dark Roman soil. The sky split open, and rain slanted in icy sheets, but the weather didn’t bother us. Not with the world transformed into a thousand shades of green. Scents rolled around me like dishes at a buffet, the emeralds and citrons rich enough to eat. Squirrels and foxes scrambled out of our path as Jesse pulled ahead, tossing a taunting bark over his shoulder.

Oh, it was on.

I surged forward and chased him up a ridge, pulling close enough to snap my jaws at his tail. At the last second, he veered left. My momentum carried me forward, and I skidded on wet leaves, forelegs paddling in place like a cartoon character.

Jesse’s bark of canine laughter floated back.

Growling, I tore after him. This time, I caught him—and then quickly realized my mistake when he spun and seized my scruff in his jaws. He tackled me to the wet pine needles, butted my head with his, then sprinted away.

Our games continued up one hillside and down the next. Every now and then, we paused to drink from a river, paws sinking into the mud on the bank. When the sun sank beneath the horizon, we stood side by side at the edge of a shallow lake, our reflections wavering in the orange-stained water. Jesse was big and golden-eyed, his fur the mink-brown of a child’s teddy bear. My wolf was smaller, my buff-colored coat darker on my head and flanks.

The next time I bent to drink, Jesse bit my rump.

Hard.

I swallowed water wrong and came up sputtering as he splashed across the lake and bolted up the opposite bank.

My howl of outrage would have been a lot more impressive if I hadn’t sneezed in the middle of it.

We ran until dusk deepened to night. The moon came up early, its glow muted by the rain.

I crested a hilltop and turned toward Jesse.

He was gone.

Just…poof. Missing.

Swinging around, I scanned the hills and saw nothing but the distant light of the towns glittering through the trees. Where the fuck was he?

Something tackled me from behind. Jesse and I went down in a tangle of wet fur and hot breath. He pinned me for a moment, then backed off and tossed his head, his command clear in the gesture.

Shift.

Scrambling to my feet, I hunkered down and willed the change to come. He watched for a second, as if he wanted to make sure I didn’t get stuck. Then he trotted a few paces away and began his own shift.

His transformation was as easy as always, his bones melting and reforming like silk. Thunder boomed as I struggled through mine. When I straightened on two legs at last, Jesse was already there, seizing my jaw and backing me against the nearest oak.

We crashed together, mouths slick with rain. Bark scraped my shoulders, but I was too busy trying to shove my tongue down Jesse’s throat to care.

He crowded me against the tree, his cock hot and rigid against mine. We were both slick with rain and sweat. Lust rolled back and forth across the mate bond as we grabbed at each other, kissing and grinding.

Lightning splintered above us, and I got a flashbulb of Jesse’s amber eyes and dripping-wet pecs. The rain pummeled us, but his body was a furnace and his hands were everywhere: my jaw, my throat, the curve of my hip.