Any sense of warmth left my body. I pulled the sides of my jacket closer and followed a pace behind Carlyle. The brothers had ventured into the compound, its looming structures bathed in moonlight. The fog I had become accustomed to now blanketed the woodland floor illuminated by the brightest and bluest moon I'd ever seen.

Unable to shake the feeling of being watched, invisible eyes glimmered from every tree hole, amplifying my crushing heartbeat. My mind raced with questions, but I held them back, focusing on keeping up with Carlyle's brisk pace.

Carlyle led the way, ignoring the brambles that snagged and scraped at his jacket. The doorway opened into a dank tunnel. Inside, the room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Light spilled from a larger area at the end. I turned, unsure of what he was expecting of me next. Instead, he proceeded with slow, planned steps.

As I stood there, surrounded by secrets and shadows, I knew one thing for certain—I was done being kept in the dark. And with Carlyle by my side, an unlikely ally, I was determined to uncover the truth.

Paul's voice came from the lit room. "He didn't pick up. We knew he would try to run again. So why didn't we bring him with us?"

Carlyle and I exchanged a look. "Focus on any sound," he whispered. "Just like you practiced, or they will hear you coming a mile off."

But there wasn't any noise. We were in the middle of a forest in what appeared to be a soundproofed tunnel. My heart beat wildly in my ears. They would know within seconds I was here, and then I would get none of my answers.

"Use your heartbeat," he said, "and turn your cell phone off while you're at it."

The task was beyond difficult, but I nodded, understanding the stakes. We edged closer to the light source. The tunnel was ten degrees cooler; my cheeks stung into ice blocks. Halfway down, guilt gnawed at me. Paul trusted me to wait.

We crept further down the tunnel. A soft whimper echoed.

"He said he would come. My brother made a promise I wouldn't do this alone." Jenny's voice came from up ahead, making us both pause.

The rigidity in Carlyle's shoulders sank at the sound of his sister's voice. To my surprise, Carlyle slowed first, jutting an arm out to prevent me from taking the lead. He placed a pointed finger to his lips and showed with the other hand that this was where we stopped.

When his arm withdrew, I aligned with the wall, as did he, and with a nod of Carlyle's head as encouragement, we both peeked around.

Three figures stood with their backs to me—Paul, Luke, and Jenny. The room was barren except for a kerosene lantern sitting on a plain wooden table. There was a single window emitting a faint natural light. I huddled closer to Carlyle. He gazed down at me, now looking uncertain as my fingers gripped the leather of his jacket. There was an element of worry in his expression; I didn't want to know where it came from.

Jenny sniffled, wiping tears on her sleeves.

"Speaking of the absent. Why isn't Dana here, Paul?" Luke asked.

Paul sighed. "I've told you before. She's close, but not ready for this. There needs to be an understanding first. She'll spook like a horse with the gate wide open otherwise."

Was he talking about me? Was I the spooked horse?

Jenny looked at Luke; her face was weary. I thought of the brave girl I knew from the office and whether her reaction or her brothers was worse. I felt sick. All three dropped to their knees. What I saw next would be amplified in my nightmares for the rest of my days on this earth.

"You need to stop protecting her, brother. Maybe I should oversee her care from now on?"

"No need," Paul insisted. "It's in hand."

"It needs to be."

Three crows cawed from a recess within the room, invisible to me in the dark. As we watched from our hidden vantage point, we stuck to the boundary of the room, weary, and on guard. An involuntary shiver ran down my spine.

An air of fear blew through my mind. My mind raced but I forced myself to focus, remembering Carlyle's warning to stay quiet.

Carlyle placed a hand on my shoulder. "What happens next, don't scream. Watch Paul carefully," Carlyle whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

A horrible feeling knotted in the pit of my stomach.

My eyes were glued to Paul, who seemed completely unaware of our existence. The second unfettered moonlight streamed into the room, and everyone's entire demeanor changed.

"He is shifting, Dana. They all are."

Both Luke and Jenny had their eyes closed and splayed hands on the floor. Carlyle clamped a hand over my mouth. Rather than being concerned, I was grateful because the only thing I wanted to do, was the one thing he needed me not to do. This was the moment Carlyle had been warning me about.

Paul's back arched unnaturally, his face contorted with pain as if he were being tortured from within. His hands clawed at the air, grasping for something, anything, to ground him to reality. It felt wrong to watch him suffer, but I knew there was nothing I could do to help. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, feeling as helpless as he looked at that moment.

Luke let out an Alpha cry, the same as I had heard Lucille do on Benton Ridge. I held my breath, a primal urge to both run and stand still clawed at my conscious, straining to see what would happen next, but there was only silence. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was witnessing something truly terrifying.

"I'm going to move my hand, Dana." Carlyle's face was set in a grim expression. "Stay quiet, Dana," he reminded me, his voice barely audible.

I nodded but saw the appearance of a deep frown on Carlyle's brow.

"Usually, the process is seamless," Carlyle explained, his voice low and steady despite the chaos unfolding before us. "The shift happens without much resistance, and the person doesn't even realize what's happening. But when there's resistance...that's when things can get ugly. Why is Paul—."

"Resistance?" I glanced at him, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. "What do you mean by resistance?"

He gulped hard and I caught the movement in his throat. "Sometimes, the person fights the change. If they're strong enough, they might be able to delay the process. But there are consequences for resisting—terrible, painful consequences. Stay focused, Dana," he urged, his dark eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear. "We need to remain hidden, or else—"

"Or else what?" I snapped, my frustration boiling over. "What could possibly be worse than this?"

"Trust me," he said grimly. "You don't want to find out. If an Alpha commands a shift, it must happen."

"Who's there? Come out," Luke shouted, his commanding Alpha voice reverberating around the room.

My head snapped to Carlyle, unsure what we should do next. Carlyle's eyes closed solemnly, resolute to whatever plan he had just resigned himself to. I understood, he couldn't not go to his Alpha. He stood taller, no longer making any attempt to conceal himself. My eyes widened, and I shook my head with a look that told him to stay. The sudden sympathy he gave me was an apology for abandonment. If I had a hammer, I would have nailed that boy to the floor. He couldn't leave me!

"Carlyle?" Luke asked.

Carlyle rounded the corner and left me in the shadows. "Better late than never," he replied.

Luke breathed deeply through his nose. "You came alone?" He nodded to a spot on the floor.

"Yes. I saw Dana. Drove her home. She is safe."

"That will be why I can smell her scent on you. Sit."

"Bossy, aren't we? You used to be cool, man." Carlyle huffed.

He needed to calm down. Starting a fistfight when we were a lonesome team of two would not bode well. Carlyle kneeled beside them, catching my gaze before it moved on. He mouthed the words, "I can hear you."

My heart rate spiked. I zeroed in and amplified it. One side of Carlyle's mouth lifted. I lay flush with the wall and concentrated on the pounding. I peeked again. Luke's shift was accelerating and I wondered if his presence forced the process for the others or if they could do it on a whim? Luke said no more and became almost trans-like in state, the same as Jenny. They were all changing rapidly, forced onto all fours.

Paul continued to struggle against his shift. "I silently urged him to stay strong, my heart aching.

At that moment, Paul's head snapped up, his hazel eyes locking onto mine with startling intensity and confusion. It was as if he had heard my silent plea, and now he knew I was there, watching.

Carlyle's head dropped at the realization. "Impossible," he murmured, but his expression betrayed his concern. "His mind-reading abilities shouldn't work mid-shift, under these circumstances."

Paul's irises turned into hazel pools. I cupped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sudden whimper that forced its way from up my throat, but the echo traveled. My focus was now shot to shit, my thoughts spilling with a thousand unanswered questions.

Carlyle eased back into a standing position with a resigned sigh. "Why don't you come on in, Dana?"

A mixture of shock and anger plastered was plastered over Paul's face. He attempted to stand, which caused Luke to break for a second to let out a low growl, baring a full set of sharp elongated teeth.

"Luke wants Lucille to come back, Dana," Carlyle announced, walking around the makeshift circle. "And Paul thinks there's a hope in hell that you'll help her—willingly." He made a pfft sound.

"Dana," Paul's voice croaked. "What are you doing here?" His body contorted, twisting again, and the same ethereal tug drew another exasperated gasp from his lungs, sending him back to the floor.

"Can't stop it once you start it, can you, Paul." Carlyle patted Paul on the back, his voice almost playful. "Once you open the door, there's no going back unless you go to Dana's extremes of diving off a cliff and knocking herself out... or running headfirst into a moving car, which was my preference. Get your game face on, Paul. You have an audience. And she now knows everything."

I looked back to Luke. With the bulk of his shoulders now rising, new claw-like nails erupted from his fingers; his change progressing quicker than the others.

The temperature of my blood dropped. Paul doubled over, a jolt rippling through his body again. For three agonizing minutes, I stood, unable to tear myself away from the sheer whiteness in Paul's eyes. The others were too far gone into their shift to notice what was happening.

"It hurts less the quicker you accept the shift. Isn't that what you told me, Paul? Why are you resisting? Let Luke claw at your flesh, as he did mine, beat you until there is only one choice—the Alpha's." Carlyle said.

"No," Luke bellowed, which sent her cowering toward the recess.

"She shouldn't be here yet," Paul cried out, another thunderous wave attempting to batter him into submission.

Awestruck, I was tearing in two. Part of me demanded I run as Carlyle had planned. But the most significant part was that I could not stand idle while Paul suffered in front of me. The part that overtook all others glared at Paul as if he were a child to scold. I could not comprehend why he had come here tonight, why he had put himself in a position to be hurt. It was as if he were searching for someone to rescue him. I had to act quickly.

"Make it stop," I pleaded, the words bursting out of me like an accusation aimed at Carlyle.

"This wasn't how I wanted you to see. Please don't look at me. In a minute, don't listen to a single fucking thing anyone says. Promise me, Dana. And when you can, run..." A blood-curdling scream erupted, and he buckled, clutching a fist to his chest.

I can't take it. I can't watch this. It's killing me.

"Get out of my head, Dana," Paul growled more feral and deep than I had ever heard him. I felt a shiver run down my spine, realizing that he was hearing my thoughts even now. The connection between us had always been strong, but I didn't expect it to persist through something like this.

"He can't," Carlyle said, now over my shoulder. "Luke can make him pay for not voluntarily submitting to the shift. Let's hope you weren't partial to his unblemished skin."

"Take her home!" Paul grunted, attempting to grab a shred of Carlyle's jacket but only clutching at air.

"She needs to see. All of you. Stop beating around the proverbial bush and get it over with."

My eyes bounced between them. Then, sitting with their heads bowed, Luke and Jenny began to lurch as their breath was ripped from within. The wiry hairs soon seeped over their bare skin. Clothing tore, shredding on the floor.

"Dana, I'm sorry," Paul whispered.

"Make the pain stop. Do whatever you need to make it stop." He let out a guttural scream. I scrambled the rest of the way to catch his head before it collided with the ground. His teeth clenched in agony, and beads of sweat built on his forehead.

"Do it for me," I said.

His head shook from side to side with his eyes scrunched tightly closed. With a sudden burst of strength, Paul began to resist, pushing back against its onslaught. His body convulsed violently, each muscle straining as if he were physically wrestling with an invisible force.

"Do it now," I repeated, more sternly.

"Don't hate me for it." The hard lines around his face softened, an amber halo expanding in his eyes as he succumbed on my words alone. Slumping in excruciating silence, his agonized breathing steadied. I watched as his skin became darker, more hazel, and coated with fur—into a wolf.

His body flexed—one muscle at a time. Paul, in his wolf form, was cradled in my lap. "Carlyle, help him." Paul's eyes fluttered.

"Look at what it's doing to him!" My voice wavered, and my vision became blurred by tears. "We have to help him, Carlyle—we can't just stand here and do nothing!"

The hairs on the back of my neck charged, and the same adrenaline spike from the bluff coursed through my veins. But this was Paul? Why would my body warn me about a man I was pretty sure I could fall in love with given time?

"Damn it," Carlyle hissed, gripping my arm tightly. "This is bad. Very bad. I didn't think. You are human. Paul may not recognize your scent yet."

Paul's past words refused to vacate my head.

"Sometimes threats are accompanied by smiling faces you never thought could do you harm. Trust your gut and not your eyes."

"And when you can, Dana, run..."

"Go now!" Carlyle bellowed, his gaze locked onto mine. I hesitated for a moment, torn between the need to help him and the fear of what might happen if I stayed. Carlyle's grip on my arm tightened as if sensing my indecision.

"If you stay here, you'll only put both of you in more danger. Go! I'll be right behind you."

I looked back to the others but they were gone. Shreds of clothing littered the floor and in their place, stood a red wolf who cowered behind something more monstrous, more black than ash, with eyes the color of an ocean, and very, very pissed.

Dread rose from the pit of my stomach, pushing past the chill in my veins. I scooted back, letting Paul's body thump against the floor, and jumped to my feet. His eyes were open, but it didn't look like Paul anymore. Maneuvering to all fours, his head rolled and rocked up. Behind his hazel wolf eyes was nothing I recognized. Step by step, he neared, posture different. The look switched to predatory.

Something was wrong with Paul. I shivered, forcing away the image of his now empty eyes. Carlyle tugged on my arm again.

"What is happening?" I asked Carlyle as we began to back toward the tunnel.

"He doesn't recognize you. And if he doesn't, neither will the others. Pack mentality will set in."

He made no attempt to explain further, and I knew better than to ask. I stopped short of asking him to repeat. The air felt too thick to inhale. A sudden tug deep in my chest chugged out my last breath as I heard the shrill cry of an Alpha. A rip deep inside burned the hollows of my lungs again. Despite every cell wanting to ground still, my legs like lead, I still sprinted back through the tunnel through the forest, but I didn't dare slow down.

The terror spurred me onward, every step carrying me deeper into the unknown world of the paranormal I had just witnessed firsthand.

We ran with rapid steps back down the tunnel until the only feet pounding on the floor were mine. Over my shoulder, Carlyle had stopped in the moonlight; irises glazed over black with an ashen face. I snatched the van keys from his extended hand. I blinked back tears, the image of Paul's tortured expression playing on a loop in my head, and did the only thing I could: I ran.