Chapter 91

Summer’s POV

When my wolf’s golden eyes flicked open, she stretched luxuriously, claws clicking on the pine-needle–studded earth. Then she hopped up and nudged the big male beside her. His ears flicked, he blinked once, twice, then flung out his tongue in a sloppy greeting against her muzzle before rising too.

Side by side, they trotted through the forest toward Jared’s house. I would’ve been ready to riot about being stuck inside a wolf’s body—claustrophobic panic plus canine fur itchiness is a hell of a combo—but man, my wolf saw the world like a nature documentary on fast-forward, every scent and sound painting a new layer of splendor over the same damn trees I’d stumbled through a hundred times. My irritation melted faster than ice cream in July.

When we reached the clearing where Jared’s cabin crouched like a shaggy old beast, the wolves paused. My wolf nudged his wolf again. He responded with another gracious face-lick, then rubbed his flank against he