Something new.

Something pulsing just beneath my skin that wasn’t fully there but was still there.

If that made any sense.

“Gods,” I mumbled. “I’m a mess.” I rubbed my hand on my breastbone, then clawed again at my limbs, trying to dispel the itching feeling, but the sensation that I was going to crawl out of my skin remained.

Or maybe I wasn’t going to crawl out of my skin but a wolf was.

I shuddered, then finally gave up. I didn’t even want to think about what all of this meant. Because tonight was the night of the full moon, the true test to see if I would indeed shift.

“Not thinking about that. Definitely not thinking about that.”

With slow movements, I stood from the bed, expecting to wince or feel sore from the beating I’d taken in the past twenty-four hours, but—

I stretched. My arms moved freely and easily. I lifted my knees, pumping them up and down. They moved just as quickly, as though my joints were perfectly lubricated hinges.

I figured it could be from the healing potion the hunter had given me the night prior, or it could be from . . . my newly awakening werewolf powers.

My heartrate picked up a staccato beat as the scents rolling up from downstairs continued to assault me. My nose twitched. Because underneath the scent of bacon and eggs, I detected other things, too. Subtler things.

The scent of icy water dipped in soil with a wash of ozone—it was the fragrance of . . .

My brow puckered, and I glanced outside.

Snow.

A light sprinkling of snow fell from the sky, coating the pastures and fields which stretched for miles to those endless mountains in the distance.

Sniffing, I padded closer to the window. The pull of the moon was gone, thank the lord baby Cheez-Its, but in its place was a myriad of new smells. I sniffed again, detecting those crisp snowflakes.

There were other scents too, some I could only guess at. Soil. Perhaps dust. Laundry detergent. Spiderwebs, maybe? Carpet. I had no idea what was what, but the subtle undertones of all of those things came to me at lightning speed.

My heart beat faster, and I began to massage my temples.

A headache brewed, which was odd since werewolves rarely got them, but I figured this momentous shift in the fabric of my very essence seemed like an appropriate occasion to have one.

I pinched my nose shut, ignoring the throbbing in my skull, and tried to stop the bombarding onslaught of never-ending scents. At least I knew about my impending shift, ’cause if I didn’t, I was pretty sure that right now I would be thinking I’d gone crazy.

Gritting my teeth, I stalked toward the corner door, assuming it was either a bathroom or a closet. Kaillen’s Montana home was much bigger than the small cabin his father insisted on keeping for him in Oak Trembler.

A full bathroom greeted me when I swung the door open. Hallelujah. I’d been hoping for that ’cause I did not feel like running into the hunter in the hallway while wrapped in a towel.

And the en-suite even had fluffy towels and a thick robe hanging behind the door. Seeing that reminded me of Kaillen’s domestic streak.

Ignoring that thought, I hurriedly showered and did my best to ignore the pungent fragrances of the shampoo and soap. When I stepped back into the bedroom, toweling my hair off, I gaped when I saw my suitcases lining the wall.

From the looks of it, Kaillen had retrieved everything I’d brought to Oak Trembler. And given the lingering scent in the air, he’d just delivered them while I’d been showering.

I scowled. He’d no doubt used his yellow crystal to portal everything from one location to another, which probably meant it’d only taken him five minutes to grab it all since he was so freakin’ powerful. Powerful enough to conjure his own portals, and powerful enough to turn me into a damned werewolf.

Grinding my teeth at the reminder of his betrayal, I threw on the first thing my hands touched in my bags—ripped jeans and a thick cable-knit cobalt-blue sweater. The sweater brought out the natural blue in my eyes and looked good against my golden hair. Normally, I would have appreciated that. But now, how I looked was the least of my concerns.

With damp hair trailing down my back, I pinched my nose again to stop the suffocating onslaught of scents that were enough to drive me mad, and finally went downstairs. I passed a few closed doors on the second floor along the way, and I realized I hadn’t seen any of his home beside the room I was in and his living area. I didn’t even know where the master suite was.

But I was too hungry to explore. My stomach was growling so fiercely that I knew I couldn’t put off an interaction with the hunter any longer.

My stomach would probably eat itself if I did.

When I entered the kitchen, Kaillen was standing over the stove, scraping the bottom of a pan. His back was to me, his shoulders broad and rippling beneath his shirt. For a moment, all I could do was stare at the way his muscles bunched and moved, that familiar ache beginning in my core.

Gods. Really? You’re thinking about fucking him even after what he’s done?

I stomped my arousal down and made a beeline for the island. Two plates with ginormous portions of food sat steaming on it.

The tension in Kaillen’s shoulders grew, and he began attacking the pan more, as if whatever was stuck on it was refusing to come free.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked without turning around.

I slid onto one of the island’s stools. Deciding to ignore him, I took in the large kitchen with its high-end appliances and sparkling granite countertops.

The color scheme in his permanent home was done in all neutrals: beige, white, light-gray, and cream. It was a simple design. Clean yet detached. In a way, it suited his personality perfectly.

And the impressive windows—which showcased the endless meadow that butted against the distant mountains—began in the living room and ran the length of the house. Sunlight poured in.

There was even a skylight above, which allowed additional natural light in. Since most of the first floor was vaulted with an open design, the light was so bright that lamps weren’t needed at all during the day.

“Tala? Did you sleep?” he asked again.

Oh, okay then. It seemed like he was intent on talking. “Well enough,” I replied curtly, then admonished myself, because the least I could do was act like a civil grown-up, but that was the extent of what our conversations would be, and I would not allow myself to notice how strong his forearms looked as he scrubbed the dirty pans. Yep, definitely ignoring that.

But speaking of dirty pans . . . “No fairy charms this morning?”

His gaze cut to mine, and my breath sucked in at the fire rolling through his irises, but more than that, I took in how horrible he looked.  Unwashed dark hair stood on end from his head. Scruffy beard coated his cheeks. Blood lines shot through his eyes. He looked so tired, haggard almost.

I’d literally never seen him look anything but in control and strong.

But for a brief moment, that haggard appearance melted away and hope shone in his eyes. Pure, unadulterated hope. I figured it was because I’d made a joke about his fairy charms. It was the first attempt I’d made at joking with him in days, almost two weeks. Ever since I’d firmly committed myself to resisting him in Oak Trembler, not that that had turned out well. I’d still fallen in love with him despite my attempts not to.

And then the dude had turned me into a werewolf.

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to think about my unwanted emotions. Kaillen had betrayed me, and I was still firmly pissed at him.

“No charms,” he finally replied, his words thick. “Not this morning. I needed to . . . move.”

I guessed that explained why his cookware had taken the brunt of his aggression.