Hunter isn’t in the entryway, dining room, or kitchen—although Jeannie is in the latter and informs me that a little while earlier she saw him through the window that looks out onto the back deck. I shrug into my new coat before I step outside; Hunter was definitely right, my old one was not up to the task of Colorado air in October.

I don’t see Hunter at first. A quick scan of the grounds beyond the deck shows that the place is entirely empty, and I frown at the undisturbed snow, wondering where he might have gone off to. There’s an empty hot tub back here and a few deck chairs, but it’s the lump of cloth a few feet away that catches my attention.

I know that plaid.

I step over to the bundle and toe it gently, noting a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and some boots.

Are these Hunter’s clothes? What the hell?

I turn my head this way and that again to try to spot him, but just like before, there’s no sign of him. Did he really run off into the woods without his clothes? Why on earth would he do that? Could he be—

A rustling in the tree line catches my eye, and I squint at the blinding layer of white that sparkles under the sun. The bushes shake like something might be moving through them—a rabbit maybe? But no, this seems bigger.

And it seems like it’s coming this way.

I take two steps back with the intention of scuttling inside; I’m not equipped to meet the local wildlife, and I’ve heard too many horror stories about bears to take any chances.

Before I can get even halfway to the door, the bushes part in a flurry, something large and gray hurtling over the snow with purpose. I squint as it gets closer, and it takes a few seconds to make out what exactly is currently barreling toward the deck I’m occupying, but when I do, a gasp escapes me.

Because it’s a very large, very fast wolf that’s bounding in my direction.

My first instinct is to scream, to run maybe, but then I remember where I am and who I’m currently staying with. Surely that isn’t…It can’t be—

I’m so busy ruminating that I completely forget to try to escape, and by the time the thought occurs to me, the wolf is trotting up the steps to the deck like he owns the place, casting me a glance that feels too human, too aware.

He sits on his haunches and tilts his head as he looks at me, and I can imagine for just a second that there’s a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He gives a short yip before bending to nose the pile of clothes on the deck, then straightens to look at me again pointedly.

My brow furrows. “Hunter?”

He yips again, placing his paw on the pile of clothes to draw attention to it once more.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” I tell him.

A low rumble sounds in the wolf’s chest, and he does something with his eyes that looks suspiciously like a roll, and then, before my very eyes, the wolf starts to change, his fur receding and his bones twisting until, in a flash, Hunter stands before me.

And he’s utterly naked.

I stare with an open mouth for a total of three seconds before I realize what I’m doing—carefully avoiding anything below the belt—finally spinning on my heel as quickly as possible while my cheeks flush with heat.

“You could have warned me,” I squeak.

I hear his low chuckle followed by the rustling of clothes. “I tried.”

“You could have tried harder.”

“Yeah, well. It’s cold out here.”

I wait until I no longer hear the sound of him dressing, even waiting for him to clear his throat before turning around.

I blink back at him as I try to make sense of what I just saw; I’ve always known in theory what happens when a shifter changes, but since Ada rarely stays in her other form for very long—let alone lets me watch her shift—it’s not something I’ve ever experienced in person.

“Does that…hurt?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No.” He purses his lips. “Maybe in the beginning? But you get used to it.”

I can feel myself frowning, suddenly filled with fear at the idea of that happening to me, because in the midst of all the chaos this week, I haven’t given much thought to that element of things. But that’s going to happen to me, right? The thought suddenly fills me with panic, because what if it does hurt? I mean, how on earth could my body change that way?

“That hasn’t…” Hunter must notice the sudden wariness on my face, because his expression turns to one of concern. “That hasn’t happened to you yet?”

I shake my head vehemently. “No.”

“Fuck.” He crosses his arms over his wide chest, the flannel of his shirt straining with the effort. “Are you nervous? Have there been any signs?”

Of course I’m nervous, I don’t say, not wanting to appear as vulnerable as I feel.

“How would I even know what signs there might be?”

His brow furrows. “I guess that’s fair.”

Silence passes between us, both of us no doubt realizing this is the first time either has spoken directly to the other since the Incident.

“Were you looking for me?”

My eyes snap up to meet his. “Hmm? Oh. Yes. Sorry.” I hold up the two sample cards on either side of my face. “I need an opinion on stain.”

“Stain,” he echoes.

“For the new mantel. We brought a couple of options but wanted to let you have the final say.”

He frowns, stepping closer. When his hand reaches out to let his thumb brush against my cheek, I suck in a breath, holding it in my chest as he swipes at something on my face.

“You had a little dust there,” he explains.

I let the breath out through my nostrils, trying to look unaffected. The scent of him seems so much sharper now, making my heart beat faster. Like just being in his presence is enough to make my body wake up.

I clear my throat, shaking the cards that I’m still holding on either side of my face. “So…stain?”

He eyes each card, finally reaching to pluck one from my hand. “This one, I think.”

“Good choice,” I say, my voice a little too high.

He just…smells so good. It’s making me dizzy.

He fiddles with the card as he looks at his shoes, his expression carefully blank.

“So…how have you been feeling?”

I blink back at him, taking a second to ascertain his meaning because his scent makes my head feel all floaty. “What?” I snort. “You mean have I tried to maul anyone else for sex lately?”

“No,” he says with a frown. “I meant, ‘How are you feeling?’ ”

“Oh.” Well, now I feel like a dick. I shuffle my weight from one foot to the other. “Fine, mostly. I’ve had some weird symptoms, but nothing like…that.”

He nods. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I imagine it’s scary,” he says. “What you’re going through. So it’s good you aren’t having anything too wild happen.”

Not again, I’m sure he’s thinking

“For now, at least,” I mutter.

I immediately regret it, because his eyes widen a little, no doubt thinking of the last time something “wild” happened.

I can smell how fucking wet you are.

I clear my throat again, pushing those thoughts aside. “Anyway, good choice on the stain. I’ll tell my brothers.”

I’m turning around to escape when his voice stops me.

“Tess.”

I turn slightly, looking back at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

I pause, tilting my head. “What for?”

“For…being so harsh with you the other day,” he says. “It’s been eating at me. I know it isn’t your fault, I do, it’s just…I’ve had bad experiences in the past. With omegas. I know that’s not your fault either, though I reckon that’s why I acted like an ass about it.” He rubs at the back of his neck, nudging his beanie he’s wearing a little and making it sit slightly off-kilter. “My alpha has been…restless. I know we barely know each other, but that doesn’t change what we are or that I’ve been worried about you. I don’t want you to think you have to go out of your way to avoid me.”