The Mates of Monsters novel Chapter 49

"Helena said you were out here."

I glance at David as he joins me on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking out at the trees. "Her help arrived. She shooed me," I explain. "And before you ask, yes, I'm still fine."

He reaches over and tucks my stray hairs behind my ear, giving him a perfect view, removing any hindrance to his lie detection. I brush my cheek on my shoulder and face him. At first, I think I know what I'm going to say, but then I lose it. He looks so handsome out here, in this summer daylight, opposite to my dream where everything around us was an inky wasteland.

"Will you shift with me for a little? Like we did before," I ask.

He gazes up and squints in the sunshine. "I've got time."

We separate in the forest, only far enough to abandon our clothes and change. Again, like before, I've waited too long and have rendered myself sore. But I didn't ask this of him so I could get my workout in and please the wild nature lurking under my skin; I did it to see him, to see what he becomes. That stalking, dark thing that maneuvers in the shadows and never leaves with an empty stomach. That beast Nicodra describes with such passion-the monster.

I prance through the trees like bait, asking something to hunt me. Somehow his scent is all around as if he's been scouring this wood for hours already, rubbing his thick coat on the bark of each tree he passes. When I prepare to dash, a low, guttural noise warns me not to. I look over my shoulder and he's there like a ghost. He's the phantom of the forest and no one trespasses without paying the consequence.

I could never kill him, nothing could, nothing could come close. It lulls my worry, proves the structure of my dream to be faulty. I can't hurt him-not in those violent ways. But I could still hurt him if I go through with this, if I continue to withhold the truth and suffocate myself with it. He'll never look at me the same if I help Aurora with her life-altering dilemma. I'll never look at myself the same.

His wolf moves around me, rubbing against my own as he passes. I leap away and scamper off. I break out into a run and smile knowing he's still with me. Each turn and jump, he's here, weaving in and out, near and far. When I slow, I hear his pounding paws grind into the dirt, and when I start again, he launches off. It's like having a bodyguard watching my back, securing the area before I step into it.

The forest floor grows uneven, layered and steep, and I stumble down, kicking rocks and debris as I scramble. My hind leg catches and bends in the sudden commotion. I reach the bottom and shake it off, but whimper when I step and feel a sharp pain. David jumps down the ledge with no problem, and nudges at my leg, making me yank it away and keep it off the ground. I try to continue, but he stands in my way, saying we're done-time to go back.

I limp the way we came, scared that it will hurt much more when I shift.

When my father was younger, he broke his leg in two places during a rather rambunctious spar in the woods with his closest friends. He told me the change back was the most uncomfortable he's ever felt, which, for my father, translates to the most pain he's ever been in. His friends had to carry him out and set it. My mother then laughed and told him to try giving birth.

Maybe this will be good for me then-a little physical pain. It must be better to go into labor with some experience.

David shifts, dresses, then hurries back to me, telling me I need to come up to the porch. I lay down in front of the steps and wait as he runs inside. The sun-warmed stone is calming under my belly, and I rest my head down on my front legs, letting my body sink as I let out a huff of breath. I need to tell him. I might end up accidentally killing myself with all of this falling if I don't.

He bursts through the doors with Helena and a blanket. He unfolds it and throws it over me, letting me keep my dignity when I change. Helena crouches by my back legs and David comes to my face. He pets the top of my head, and Helena says, "Okay, Brigette," a signal to shift.