My wolf doesn’t move, but he barks an order.

Shift.

Annie shifts immediately. Under the truck, a curse devolves into a pained yelp. My bad. I guess Liam shifted, too.

Nuria is still standing on two feet.

My wolf barks again, louder. She lifts her chin.

My wolf growls a few more times for good measure.

Shift. Shift now.

Liam wriggles out from the undercarriage on his belly. Annie cowers, trembling, gaze averted, neck bared. As is right.

Nuria is frozen in place, wearing a pale-yellow blouse, rolled up past her elbows, and a long jean skirt. There’s something balled in her left fist. Her brown hair shines, wisps framing...