“In some ways you could say he was the first werewolf I’d ever met. He was definitely the first alpha of a pack I’d ever met,” Eli said. He took the phone back and studied the photo himself, though Cooper got the feeling from the speed with which he’d pulled it up that Eli already had it memorized like the back of his hand, had spent hours staring at it. “I was desperate to prove my worth to him, whatever it took.” His expression turned wry and he put the phone away. “Of course, that went about as well as it always does.”

Cooper winced—Eli’s words striking a little too close to home—but quickly pushed the thoughts back, not trying to steal focus. “What happened?”

Eli looked at Cooper, assessing. “I have a somewhat uncommon talent. I don’t suppose Ollie has mentioned that either.”

“Actually,” Cooper said, remembering a conversation they’d had directly after meeting Eli for the first time, “I think he did say something about you having valuable assets but didn’t explain what that meant.” He was acting unsure, but he remembered the conversation clear as day. The exact wording had stuck in his brain because he’d been a little, ah, jealous at the time and had repeatedly wondered what said assets were, exactly.

“Hmmm,” Eli said, studying Cooper’s expression. “Undoubtedly, I’m equally talented at whatever you’re imagining right now that’s put such a dazed look on your face. But I was actually referring to one of my nonsexual gifts. Have you heard the term slipping?”

Cooper shook his head, and Eli explained, “It’s basically being able to shift specific parts of your body without triggering a full change. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, most wolves can slip their eyes.” Eli’s irises expanded so that the white disappeared. “Or their claws.” He flipped Cooper an excessively sharp bird. “It can be intentional, instinctual or tied to our emotions.”

“Same as fully shifting, right?” Cooper asked, oddly invigorated to be talking about this so openly. Park rarely brought it up and Cooper didn’t feel right pushing him to. But Eli seemed very comfortable talking about the subject. Far more relaxed than when speaking about James. “Oliver once told me that poor emotional control can lead to someone losing control of their shift as well.”

Eli tilted his head. “That can be true, yes. But shifting is a highly individualized experience. I suppose none of us can truly know what it feels like to anyone else. I’ve often heard Ollie describe his shift as ripping off something that’s stuck to him. A pleasurable pain. Immediate. Freeing. For others it’s a methodical and agonizing reorganization of their very bones. Many, many more exist somewhere along the vast expanse in between.”

Cooper nodded, all of this aligning with what he’d observed himself.