Ducking into the dense underbrush of the woods near Riverbend Apartments, I shifted back to human form. The sensation of bones rearranging and muscles contracting was oddly satisfying, an immediate stress release. I also knew I was taking a risk. Shifting wasn't allowed in the human world for a good reason, so I made it quick.Quickly dressing in the clothes I'd been carrying in my mouth, I grimaced at how they were soaked with saliva. But it was either that or run around here naked, and I'd had enough embarrassment for one day.As I approached the building, the doorman, Peter, was at his usual post. "Hey, you got any product on you?" I asked.Peter looked around cautiously before nodding. "Dude, you're in luck. I just restocked." I handed him the wad of cash that was stashed in the clothes, not bothering to count it, and in exchange, he gave me what was left of his stash. A lot, to be precise.Maybe too much.I reached my apartment only to realize I didn't have the keys. "Fucking b

Luke used to be full of life, his eyes sparkling with a reckless spirit that excited and unnerved me. Now, standing behind my reflection, his face showed the marks of physical and emotional battles, barely holding together.The change hit hard, a stark reminder of life's unpredictable shifts. Applying lip liner, I sought a touch of normalcy on a tense day. Luke, his hands shaking, fumbled with a razor by the sink.Clay intervened, his expression a blend of worry and determination. "Let me help," he offered, taking the razor from Luke's unsteady grip.With a sigh, Luke sat on the counter, exchanging a fleeting, heavy glance with me in the mirror.Watching them, I saw the depth of their bond in this tender moment. Clay's gentle handling of the razor and Luke's trusting tilt of his head was a silent affirmation of their deep trust for each other. It filled my heart, a poignant counterpoint to the morning's somberness."Luke, you might need a line or two before the meeting," Clay said, ch

We finally made it back to the pack house. As we pulled up, the healer was waiting, syringe in hand, ready to administer something to keep Luke under while they worked on his arm. Trevor and I carefully carried him into the med bay, Luke's body occasionally twitching and fighting against the drowsiness.Once inside, the healer instructed us to secure Luke to the bed. "We can't have him thrashing about," he said, his tone clinical but not unkind. We fastened his legs and his uninjured arm, ensuring he wouldn't injure himself further during the procedure.As the healer manipulated the broken bone back into place, Luke let out a blood-curdling scream, even through the meds. It was a sound that cut straight to the heart, raw and painful. He didn't wake, but he clearly felt it on some level.Beside me, Lexi nearly crumpled, her body trembling with each of Luke's muffled cries. I knew she didn't want my touch, but hell, I couldn't stand there and do nothing. I wrapped my arms around her, pu

Swinging my legs out of the truck, my boots hit the concrete with more force than I had intended. The withdrawal was deep this time, each moment a battle, but I welcomed it. The pain and the struggle were necessary to get to the other side. For the first time, I felt an absolute resolve to quit. I sensed the bottom approaching, and I was terrified of hitting it. I hoped, desperately, that she'd keep me afloat long enough for me to find my footing in this new, terrifyingly sober world. Lexi grabbed my hand, pulling me upright. I made a show of it, pretending she helped more than she did. Emotionally, she was the strongest person I knew. Physically, though, her small frame sometimes worried me, especially when she put herself between me and what she perceived as danger. As we walked to the gallery, her arm around my waist, Clay trailed behind, his gaze sharp and protective. It killed me to see him so wary around me with Lexi. I hated that my actions had caused this, that he felt he n

Luke's awe was clear as Clay finished my tattoo, his skilled hands bringing to life the intricate design we'd agreed upon. It was more than ink on skin; it was a symbol of our intertwined lives, our shared journey. The art was so quintessentially us, capturing the essence of our bond in bold, swirling lines and shaded crescents.As Clay began working on Luke's tattoo, situating it on the curve of his calf muscle, I pulled Luke closer, letting his head rest in my lap. The intimacy of the moment, the proximity to Luke while Clay etched a matching symbol into his skin, felt surreal. There was a playful banter in the air, light and teasing, as I ran my fingers through Luke's hair."Ow, easy there, Clay," Luke joked, wincing slightly as the needle buzzed against his skin.I couldn't help but chuckle. "You're not exactly the tough guy you pretend to be, are you?" I teased, watching his expression shift between discomfort and pride.Clay, focused yet part of our playful exchange, handed me a