Chapter 3

“I shouldn’t have come.” My voice came out as barely a whisper, and I fidgeted before I half rose. “I’ll go and you never—”

“Asher.” Trey’s voice came out sharp, but not unkind, and my gaze snapped to his. I had no idea what his expression meant and I shook my head and tried to turn even from my partially standing position. But then his hand touched mine. Big and warm and comforting, and a sob caught in my throat.

I sat hard and curled in on myself, but not moving my hand because I didn’t want to lose his touch. It was stupid. I’d met him only once before, and that wasn’t for very long. And here I was in his kitchen, on the verge of tears. What the hell was wrong with me?

“We’ll figure that out, Asher. If you just tell me what’s happening.”

It took me a second to realize I’d spoken aloud and Trey was trying to comfort me. I let my head fall back, and breathed hard and fast through my nose. It was a trick I’d learned at a young age to get the tears in my eyes to recede.

“I can’t shift,” I whispered, my voice breaking on the last word. To admit it to another person made me feel like the world’s biggest loser.

My pronouncement was met with utter silence. Even the house itself seemed to still after I’d spoken. It was so much worse than I’d ever anticipated. Everything in me was still screaming to run, but I knew now I couldn’t.

If I did, I’d never survive.

Slowly, I lowered my chin until I could see Trey’s face. There was shock there, which was to be expected. And worse, pity. I’d never wanted to see that look on his face. It broke something inside me, and even though my logical brain was demanding I shut up, I babbled instead.

“I’ve lost touch with my bear. I can’t feel him anymore. It’s like he disappeared. I don’t know—” My voice cracked again, and I had to take a deep breath. “I don’t know why or what…I don’t…”

“Shhhh,” Trey soothed, and only when he touched my shoulder did I realize that I’d closed my eyes at some point. A tear leaked out and ran down my cheek, but I couldn’t even muster the strength to wipe it away. Trey did it for me, then took hold of my chin to lift my gaze to his. When we made eye contact, he gave me a soft smile. “Did your clan healer examine you?

I nodded, misery flooding through my veins. Of course he had. It had been the first thing my father ordered when I couldn’t shift at the last full moon. Shifters didn’t need the full moon in order to change, but the moon ruled us all, and it was far easier when she was full than at any other time. If I couldn’t even manage to shift then, it was obvious I was truly broken.

“And what did they say?”

He was speaking to me as though I was a wounded animal. I snorted a mirthless laugh at the thought. I supposed I was exactly that.

“He said—” I choked on the words I was about to say, and dug deep to find that alpha strength I pretended to have just to get them out. “He said there was nothing wrong with me. That I was just a weak and useless shifter. That I wasn’t an alpha.”

Trey made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. I flinched, and regretted it instantly. Here I was again, showing my weakness. Trey took a step back and held up his hands, as though trying to show me he meant no harm.

He never took his eyes off me, but tilted his head to speak over his shoulder. “Duncan, call Verity and have her come. We need to make sure that Asher isn’t suffering from unknown sickness. He needs to be checked out by a competent healer.”

He stressed the word, and something in me relaxed slightly. I couldn’t exactly say why, except that it seemed like Trey didn’t believe my clan healer was right. And that gave me the tiniest shred of hope.

“Of course, Alpha,” Duncan said in that warm voice, and moments later, he was murmuring into his phone.

“I know you’re scared.” Trey’s words brought my attention back to him. “I would be, too, if I lost my wolf. We’ll figure it out. You did the right thing, coming here.”

I still wasn’t sure about that. But I hadn’t had a choice. Not a good one. And at least Trey wasn’t looking at me with pity and condescension. That would change, I expected. But until it did, I savored this moment. 2

Verity was a tall woman with steel gray hair and a gentle, but efficient touch. She quickly proceeded with the usual exam, and after fifteen minutes, she said I could put my shirt back on and packed her bag. When she opened the door to the office—where the alpha had led us for some privacy—Trey strode in.