In March, most of the hikers start the Pacific Crest Trail from its Mexican terminus and make their way toward the Canadian end, to dodge the heat of the Sierra and pass through Oregon and Washington during the warmer months. Julia and I set out of Grauberg and hit the tourist track with the winter still in the air, which allowed us to stay on the human trail as werewolves.

"We're covering more ground than I expected." I turned to Julia, unexpected excitement coursing through my veins. It was wonderful to shift for a walk through the woods, rather than for war. I hadn't done it in such a long time... "We will be at the ranch well before April is out."

Julia grunted. "Slow and steady, Harold. If you keep dashing, we'll have to camp for a day or more before the week is out, because you'd collapse."

"My wise mate." Her werewolf form was compact, with sturdy legs perfect for covering distances in any terrain. "Not all of us have your lucky build."

Werewolf maws are not expressive, but Julia didn't have to roll her eyes for me to know her thoughts on the matter: my body had nothing to do with it, my character did. I was a show-off who didn't know how to pace myself properly.

She wasn't wrong, but she didn't get all of it either. Whenever my claws hit the dirt, I had to run. The wind ruffling my fur, the sound of my footfalls in my ears, the pounding of my heart, the hum in my every muscle—fast movement was irresistible. If I was going it alone, I'd run until I couldn't any more, then black out for a day, yes. Then I'd rinse and repeat. It would be my time with no regrets, and as little thoughts as possible.

But I wasn't going it alone. I forced my legs to shorten their stride.

"Okay, you win. Let's keep an eye out for a place to camp." Even though there was plenty of light left, particularly for a werewolf. But a suitable spot on a flat, dry ground meant a decent sleep, dreamless if I was lucky, and no disturbance to the landscape. In March, it wouldn't be easy to find.

"Way, way off the trail," Julia commanded. "Five hundred feet or more. I don't want a repeat of that one time when the idiot tourists chased you into the bush waving an open bag of jerky to get a selfie with a 'black bear'."

"Jules!" Laughter burst out of me. I hadn't felt this carefree since the day Julia was referring to, when I snuck upon a group of camping humans in my werewolf form and roared with all my might. In my defense, we were young, and the humans grabbed our favorite party spot near Grauberg. "Come on, it was a cool prank. Everyone nearly died laughing."

"The Lupine Council of North America wouldn't have had, if they heard."

"Plus, you handed them the piece of your mind so well, they all smartened up."

I could have sworn Julia blushed under her russet fur and jerked her head in denial. "Harold, damn it...stop it."

"No, no, credit is where credit is due." From our friends, Julia alone had enough wits left to shift into the human and intercept my pursuers before they got hopelessly lost. Then she read them the riot act. "If it wasn't for you, the scent of jerky would have clung to me in my nightmares. When you told them that your only regret would be that a bear could be destroyed if he ripped them a new one...magnificent!"

"How would you even know," she muttered.

"Because I watched the entire scene from a tree." I should have doubled back to the rest of our friends, but when I saw Julia bursting out of the woods, her eyes aglow with righteous indignation, I just...I stayed.

Everyone called her shy even before other she-wolves went into heat one by one and squabbled over the mates with the intensity of youth. Oh, the drama, the intrigue of it...it seemed so petty when I looked back on it. Anyway, sitting in that tree, I scoffed at the whispers about Julia. Those who said they didn't understand how she got a Beta Mark from the Goddess should have seen how humans twice her age hang their heads in her dominant presence.

A regret, too intense for something missed so long ago, pierced my chest. I should have told our friends. I should have defended her from their snide remarks.

Shouldda, wouldda, couldda...Julia wasn't a damsel she-wolf who needed protection. She grew up into someone far more worthy of respect than I did. But the pangs of regret wouldn't go away.

"Honestly, Jules, you were magnificent and a great friend." The werewolf's voice sounded gruff, but I had to clear my throat. "You are a great friend. I'm grateful for you packing up your life and coming to help me, Jules. I am."

She was a great friend, and not at all sentimental. I must have freaked her out with this mushy nonsense so much, she shifted to a human and stared at me. In human form, her eyes were darker and more clever than in the werewolf's. Their attentive glance pulled me somewhere—not sure where.

I had to stop imagining things. "Hey, sorry for sounding like a corny old fool."

Her face pinched. "I don't mind."

"Then why do you look and sound like you've chugged down a gallon of vinegar?" I never used to be embarrassed and irritated at the same time around her. Why wouldn't it be as comfortable as before? "Relax, Jules. People would expect us to act and speak affectionately toward one-another in public."

She didn't relax. If anything, her spine snapped to a dangerous level of stiffness, like she swallowed a damn fence post. Her voice was so grating, she could have sanded that fence post. She could have ground it into dust. "Don't worry. I'll be all sweetness in public. I'll even wear stupid dresses. Anything for you, dear heart."

'Dear heart' isn't the easiest thing to make sound like a snap of a whip, but Julia managed just fine. After all I had been through, one would have thought I'd be used to scorn. But it stung so bad, I recoiled.

"Perfect!" A wolf had to work hard in a werewolf form to produce sounds other than growls even in the most loving of conversations, and this wasn't anywhere near loving. I pointed at her pack. "If you have the pink number from our pledge in there, wear it while we hike, because Californian women are discerning and merciless. We don't want to disappoint my mother."

She exhaled with a whistle through her clenched teeth. "Unfortunately, I sent all my ball gowns ahead of us. The sooner we get to California, the sooner I can vow your mother with my social graces and heavenly beauty. So go...shift yourself and set up your tent. We'll start early tomorrow."

I snapped my teeth at her. "I'm sleeping wild, Happy Tail. Goodnight."

After Julia huffed, an uneasy silence settled over our improvised campsite. I dug up the sleeping bag from my pack and tossed it directly onto the ground. Resolutely, I stretched on it, turned my back on my fake mate and shut my eyes.

As minutes dragged on, with not a hint of sleepiness, sounds of her activity—snapping tent poles, setting up the camping stove, crunching a wrapper of the dehydrated soup—calmed my heartbeat. Or maybe it wasn't the sounds. Maybe it was her presence. Her positive energy, her kindness, her steadiness in doing the right things...I counted on it to ground me. Shit, how did it go so wrong tonight?

After finishing her meal, she didn't climb into her tent as I expected. Instead, she sat in silence. It was easy to picture her lift her head and watch the darkening sky and the first stars popping up. Not angry any more. The silence between us would have been different if she was still angry.

"Jules," I called out without turning. "I'm sorry."

She sighed three or four times. Then there was a rustle of clothes and a crunch of footsteps as she came to stand over me. "Let's try to start on a better foot tomorrow, Harold. Now, for Goddess' sake, shift and eat something. This is unhealthy."

Julia, always the healer. I flipped to my back and studied her shape, softened by the gathering twilight. Her eyes glistened, their gaze not straying from me. So comforting. Wish she'd never look away. This was as ridiculous and unrealistic a desire as my earlier regrets.

"Jules..." Did I just think that it was hard to do anything but growl when shifted to a werewolf? Speaking softly gave me no trouble at all. "I know, it's bad, but give me this one night."

She crouched next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. She asked me a lot of questions in the hospital after my shameful attack on Celeste. After Scarlett was exiled by the pack and slept with that rogue to break our bond. Do you need to talk about the bond, Harold? How are you feeling today? Is there any improvement?

I never answered her, because what was the point? It hurts, but I'm numb. Dead inside, Jules. Fucking bury me already. Who needed all that whining?

This time, she asked no pointed questions, and I blurted out the truth.

"I've mostly shifted to fight since that Winter Solstice." No, this was too evasive. I had to say it aloud, and there was nobody else in the world I could trust but Julia, no matter how much we bickered. "Since Scarlett had betrayed me."

There, I said it.

Julia chewed her lips. "How did the transformation feel today?"

"Like I was free from all burdens and could savor the world again." A different creature in a different body. When I transformed back into a human, it would probably be back to numb. I could endure it, because I had learned to, but what's the harm in doing it a little later?

"You said you only shifted for battle. Does this mean the last time you shifted was during the attempted subjugation attack by the rogues?" The night was darkening, so I couldn't see Julia clearly. But her outline appeared straighter, firmer to me. "Is this correct? "

"Are you asking me as a friend or as a doctor?"

"Both."

I knew that. I also guessed what her follow-up question would be, so I searched my soul for the truth. Lying to her would be like lying to myself. "Prior to today, I shifted to duel the woman I once used to love. When I hesitated, Monica inflicted the lethal blow. I tried to stay in my human form as much as possible since."

Julia chewed her lips again. "We have to talk about Monica."

"I swear, Doc, I had no traumatic flashbacks today. Just this wonderful sense of freedom." I shrugged, as much as a werewolf could shrug, then infused flattery into my voice. "Go figure, but I think it's actually very healthy for me. The mountains, reconnecting with my basic nature, my personal healer..."

I even chuckled at the end, eager to convince Julia. We normally didn't dream in a werewolf shape. Not that I was afraid to dream, but I...I could use a break from it.

"It's not that," Julia replied. It sounded curt, unprofessional, and completely unlike her. "Monica came to see me at the hospital after our pledge."

It caught me off guard. "She did?" The hell?

She nodded. "To advise me against seducing you and ruining your honor, Harold, because you'll mate her as soon as your punishment is done." Julia's tone was so crisp it sounded brittle. "Given our...ah...arrangement, I want to know if that's your intent."

"Goddess, was it why you're on edge? Monica was shitting you, Jules. If you told me right away—" Then what? Should I have stepped between two she-wolves? Goddess preserve us! "No. You did the right thing to keep it private. There was enough drama in the pack with Blake and Celeste. I want it to be different for us in California."

Julia clasped her hands in her lap. "Monica seemed so sure..."

"Delusional," I corrected. And scowled, because it came naturally in the werewolf form. This quarrel was as petty as it was unnecessary. I made myself crystal clear, but Monica went ahead and upset Julia. Fortunately, Julia was a level-headed she-wolf who had her emotions under control. "Put it out of your mind."

Unfortunately, some things even an Alpha can't command into being. A shuddering breath escaped Julia's lips. If it was any longer, it would have rattled the ground between us. "It's so damn difficult to judge when you're lying, even when you are human. As a werewolf...it's basically hopeless. So, I'm going to ask you again, Harold. Have you ever promised anything to Monica?"

"No!" The already gruff werewolf's voice thickened to growl from righteous indignation. "I already broke my vow to only take a single mate!"

That mate was Scarlett, and Scarlett wouldn't have argued openly. She would have promised, teased and mocked, until I caved in. If I was with Scarlett, I would have turned away and she'd left me alone to stew, but Julia's gaze pinned me to the spot until I made all the connections.

Yes, Scarlett promised, teased and mocked—with everyone, not just me. Technically, it wasn't I who misled Monica, but from a certain point of view... Say, from Monica's point of view... Memories flashed in my mind's eyes like a slideshow, providing enough proof to make bile rise in my throat.

"No..." This didn't come out of me as another impassioned denial, more like a wail of a broken, deluded soul.

"Curse you, Harold Almarr!" Julia jumped to her feet and her eyes blazed in the moonlight, because the Goddess chose this moment to look in on us from the sky.

I grabbed her arm, needing to keep her there. Listen to me. Believe me. My thickened bones, tendons, and pelt strained to their limits, trying to absorb this unexpected blast of humanity.