“Talking—” She stopped, gnashed her teeth, and dug her claws harder on the pole. She let out a stifled cry and drew a deep inhale. “Talking helps.”
“For my brother or you?”
“Both.”
“Yeah, well, he has to figure that out himself. And you don’t have to talk if it hurts your throat—”
“It doesn’t. It’s…better.”
The struggle was there but briefer, so he kept conversing. His beast called at him to shift and roam free, but Nico refused to leave her alone as the hours flew by and every moment became agony for her. When she twisted so hard that holding on would hurt her, he let go for a second and was on his feet when she was.
“Want to try,” she said, close to hugging the pole.
“To shift?”
Anne nodded and lifted her chin, waiting for his protest. When he didn’t, she bit her lip.
“Don’t bite your lip. You might end up bleeding,” he warned. Calmly, he strode over and stood in front of her. “Pull your feet apart. When the next bout of pain comes, imagine that you are pushing a force out. Something solid and tangible Push it with all your strength. Use your pain.”
She stopped biting her lip and nodded. Her muscles tensed while he hovered over her waiting for that crucial moment. When it came, she was tossed with it, her body slamming against the pole and rattling the tent up. Nico jumped and inserted himself between them, cushioning her. Alarm rose on her features as she shook her head, but he remained in that spot.
“Slam against me.” An idea came. He picked up the blanket and placed it between them. “Or this. I won’t have you hurting yourself against that pole again.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but there was no time as her body dictated her movements, and she was slamming against him. He bit back a curse when his back hit the pole, then stepped forward and braced for the next slam, so he wouldn’t fall back. Then she stopped slamming altogether, her head pushing against his shoulder as she squirmed on the spot as something broiled inside her.
“Anne?”
Her head snapped up. Her eyes grew dark, and her mouth opened in a wordless cry, but the teeth sharpening before his gaze and the fur sprouting from her caught his attention the most. It wasn’t just patches but the whole of her this time, growing so thick that she was coated in a sheen of silky dark gray. Bones creaked as the rest of her tried to catch up to the momentum, but there was no bursting into her beast form even when she visibly tried to get it out with all her might. She pushed, then pushed again. His hands squeezed her shoulders to stop the next.
“Know your limits,” he said. “Don’t push to the point that there’s nothing left of you.”
Her eyes flared. She nodded as her fingers clutched the pole tighter, effectively pressing closer to him. Anne pushed once more, a grunt flying off her lips at the effort it took. Her muscles quivered and her breath sharpened. Her fur grew even thicker as she buried her head in his neck, where he felt her mouth transform into a snout before returning to its human form. It lasted just a second, but it was enough to have her jerking back.
Shock glittered in her features, mirroring his. Then she smiled, so brilliantly that he was hit with its blast.
“I did it,” she declared, so filled with pride that he could only stare dazedly, just as proud and in a heightened sense of arousal.
Then it all vanished into thin air when she swayed on her feet and started to pass out.
Chapter 8
Anne managed to half-shift twice more before the effort took its toll on her, and she found her body giving up on the last few hours. It didn’t occur to her that she had been doing this for the past few nights until the pain had ebbed away as usual and her head became clearer—and with that came the clarity that she hadn’t been alone the whole time.
“I can’t anymore,” she managed to say, fighting through the dazedness until she could look at him. Nico looked back steadily, a force with a purpling shoulder and a look of utter conviction.
“You did it. Now you rest.”
Like a trigger, the words were enough to send her muscles weakening until they could no longer support her. But he was there, catching her before she could fall and carrying her to her futon, where he laid her gently. Sleepiness took over, but not until she glimpsed him trying to stand up. Her hand reached out, wrapping around his wrist.
“Stay. Please.”
Her sane mind would probably protest her making the request, but now her sane mind wasn’t involved. The need to not be alone trumped everything else and the relief that washed over her when he knelt back beside her was a force to be reckoned with. Then sleepiness resumed its call as his warmth slithered in, and she knew he was lying beside her.
Anne slept with that knowledge, knocked out and dreamless. She woke up in stages, taking in the silence and the morning cold, the darkness that indicated dawn, and the fact that the cold never managed to dig into her bones. Then the hand on her stomach registered and so did everything else.
“Nico?”
Her voice was a whisper, something she hadn’t heard in a long time and still felt foreign. It strained but was no longer painful. When he didn’t respond, she took in the rest of her surroundings, from the items already arranged to the clothes ready in a corner. But every time something caught her eye, his hand snatched her focus back, splayed over her stomach so cozily as if it belonged there. The rest of him…it was sleeping soundly behind her and breathing against her neck as he did so.