I was a long way from being cured of my aquaphobia, but when my head breached the surface and I gulped lungsful of pine-scented air, an ounce or two of the fear and hatred of water I’d carried with me all this time rolled liquescent from my hair to be left behind.

Snarls greeted my emergence, and I snapped to attention. Graeson stood, flesh warping, over Harlow. She lay sprawled on her back, staring skyward, as if aid ever came to those who asked those distant celestial bodies for help. Crawling from the water, I took my place beside Graeson as her vacant gaze settled on me. A flicker of consciousness darkened her eyes as she mouthed, See you soon.

Before I puzzled out her meaning, the night erupted. Wargs rushed in from all sides, paws scrabbling in the slick mud. Bessemer, in his silver-backed wolf form, stood on the lip of the pond and watched, Imogen at his side.

I called up all the magic swimming in my veins and thrust the shift on myself. Pain was my reward. Sharp, fast, hard. My jaw clenched and body stretched as my limbs elongated and muscles twisted. I came through the other side panting and breathless, and damn if Graeson hadn’t held off his change to first watch mine. A reverent smile, and he became molten, his wolf a silver blur eager to join in the fray.

Fur in earthy browns, grays and blacks dotted the landscape as the pack descended.

Claws unsheathed, stance wide, I prepared to stand against the tide, only to have them shy away from me and flow over Graeson. There were too many for one wolf to handle. Too many for one wolf and—whatever I was now—to defeat. That didn’t mean we were giving up the fight.

I waded in, knocking wargs aside and peeling them off the dog pile forming over Graeson. I had almost reached the bottom when the sterling wolf surged upward, a howl on his lips. We fought them off, back to back, keeping Harlow penned between us.

The onslaught thinned, and I risked a hopeful glance at Graeson.

I didn’t see the slender black wolf bulleting toward me until she hit me in the chest and knocked me sailing backward. I slid in the muck until the back of my head went cold and wet. Aisha stood on my chest, planted one paw on my forehead and dunked me underwater. I came up spluttering and hooked my claws into her sides. All that did was haul her closer, and she clamped her jaws around my throat. Her teeth were sharp on my skin, her breath hot and smelling of copper. I expected the snap—of her jaws, of my neck—but she savored her victory.