When the ranch came into view, he finally slowed, then stopped at the edge of the trees.

You can’t stay in here forever. The wolf snarled, and Aden couldn’t stop the sound from emerging. Can you? Can you! Much more, and they would be foaming at the mouth.

Aden glanced around the area, but didn’t see anything that would help him do what needed to be done.

There was another way, he thought with a sigh. He sat on his haunches and extended one back leg. He peered down at it. The muscles were bunched, the fur glistening like black diamonds.

No, Eve said, realizing what was about to happen. Don’t do it.

I have to, Aden thought. His stomach churned with nausea. There was no time to steel himself against the pain he was about to inflict. Forever wouldn’t have been long enough to prepare. He simply bared the wolf’s teeth and, with another vicious snarl, lunged at the leg. Those sharp fangs sank past that muscle and hit bone.

There was a scream inside his head, a grunt, several moans. Everyone felt the bite, the agonizing pain spreading like wildfire, affecting every organ it touched.

What the hell are you doing? the wolf shouted. Stop. Stop!

Maintaining that razored grip, firming his jaw, he jerked back. Warm, metallic-flavored liquid poured into his mouth, down his throat, and wet his fur. He gagged.

More screams, more moans.

Aden panted as the wolf’s body sagged to the grass. The pain was immobilizing, just as he’d intended. Now when he left, he would not be followed or attacked.

It took every ounce of his mental strength to reach out of the animal’s body, insubstantial hand solidifying and gripping the nearest tree root. The grip, though weak, held and he was able to tug himself out.

Aden lay there for a moment, stunned, trying to catch his breath. Move. Move! His human body refused to obey. He was no longer inside that mangled form, but his mind—or his companions—didn’t care. They all knew what had been done and could feel the residual effects. His muscles were clamped down on his bones, holding him immobile.

The silver lining: adrenaline began crashing through him, trying to combat the “pain,” giving him strength. Finally he was able to roll to his side. The wolf, he saw, lay exactly as he’d left him, leg extended, blood coating the wound, his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Aden said, and it was the truth. “I couldn’t allow you to attack me.”

Green eyes glared over at him, glazed with pain and fury.

Aden lumbered to his feet, swayed as a wave of dizziness swept through him. “I have to check in with the head of the house and then I’ll come back with bandages.”

A low howl promised retribution if he returned. Didn’t matter. He was coming back. He stumbled his way to the bunkhouse and climbed through the window to his bedroom. Weak as he was, as little time as he had, he just couldn’t deal with the dregs. All windows here were wired to a security system, but it was only switched on at night. Plus, Aden had long since cut and rewired the one in his room so that it never triggered the alarm (but looked like it would, just in case Dan decided to check.)

He had his own bathroom and downed a glass of water, then washed his face. Thankfully, there was no blood on his shirt, just dirt and grass stains. His face was completely devoid of color, his hair disheveled and laced with twigs.

He stuffed several bandages and a tube of antibiotic cream in a bag and chucked it out the window. He followed it, plucking the twigs from his hair. After he’d hidden it under rocks, he made his way to the main house.

Dan was sitting on the porch, Sophia sleeping at his feet. The window behind him was open, and through it he could hear the sounds of pots and pans banging together. Meg, Mrs. Reeves, was cooking. A peach pie, from the smell of it. Aden’s mouth watered. The peanut butter sandwich he’d had for lunch was only a fond memory right now.

How could Dan betray that woman? Eve asked on a disgusted sigh. She’s a treasure.

Who cares? Caleb exclaimed. We’ve got stuff to do.

Eve huffed. I care. Cheating is wrong.

How bad would it look if he shouted, “Shut up!” Aden wondered.

The moment Dan spotted Aden, he checked his wristwatch and nodded with satisfaction. “Right on time.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Aden said, trying not to pant from fatigue. “Wanted to tell you how I did.”

“I know how you did. The school called.”

What? Had they complained about—

“Said you aced the tests,” Dan finished.

Thank God. He nodded, knowing he should have been smiling but unable to manage it. He felt as if he were standing center stage, a spotlight trained on him, highlighting the signs of his run with—as—the wolf. Or rather, werewolf. It was weird to think like that, shape-shifter versus animal.

“I’m proud of you, Aden. I hope you know that.”

Throughout his life, he’d disappointed people, confused them, embarrassed them and angered them. Dan’s praise was…nice. “Th-thank you.” How could Dan be so wonderful and yet, as Eve was still grumbling about, so slimy?

“Have you seen Shannon? He hasn’t made it back yet.”

He hadn’t? Where was he? He’d gone ahead of Aden. “I haven’t. I’m sorry. We left the school separately.”

Dan gave his watch another glance.

“Guess I’ll go do my chores now,” Aden said, though he had no intention of starting them until after he saw to the wolf’s care. He managed only one backward step before Dan stopped him.

“Not so fast. I was also told you stayed after school to talk to a girl.”

Aden gulped. Nodded. Someone had clearly been watching him, and he didn’t like it. He only wished he’d felt the heat of their stare; a little warning would have been nice. If Dan forbade him to hang with Mary Ann he would—

“You treated her right?”

That was all the man was concerned with? His shoulders slumped with relief. “Yeah.”

Dan’s head tilted to the side. “Not very talkative today, are you?”

“I’m tired, is all. Nerves kept me up all night.”

“I can understand that. Go on, then. Do your chores and then make an early night of it. I’ll have dinner sent to your room.”

“Thank you,” he found himself saying again. He rushed back to the bunkhouse, but didn’t enter. He grabbed the bag he’d tossed out his window and headed back into the forest, staying in the shadows so that no one would see what he was doing.

The werewolf was gone.

The only sign that he’d been there was the patch of blood, still wet and gleaming in the sunlight. While he didn’t see the animal, he did see Shannon, cut up and bleeding and headed toward Dan.

Stomach once again churning, Aden followed and eavesdropped from a distance.

“They were w-waiting for me. A group of them. Th-they jumped me.”

“Who were they?” Dan asked, his anger clear. “Did you get a good look at them?”

“N-no.”

Aden frowned. Shannon had green eyes; the wolf had green eyes. Shannon was hurt; the wolf had been hurt. Shannon was here now; the wolf was gone. Had he really been jumped or was that a lie to cover something else? An ability most people wouldn’t understand? Shannon hadn’t limped, though, and that leg wound wouldn’t have had time to heal. Would it?

Later, in the barn while they shoveled horse manure, he tried to question Shannon about what had happened, gently trying to steer the conversation toward Mary Ann and wolves to gauge the boy’s reaction. All he received was silence.

ADEN TOSSED AND TURNED for hours, resigned to another sleepless night. His mind was simply too wired. The souls were asleep, finally, so his thoughts were his own—but they weren’t welcome thoughts. All he could hear was the gasp of shock from Mary Ann when he’d inhabited the werewolf’s body. All he could picture was the werewolf, bleeding…dying? Or was Shannon the werewolf, as he suspected? Had he raced into the woods after school, transformed and sprinted back to Mary Ann before Aden could reach him?