“Yes, coffee and food sound heavenly.” My stomach growled on cue. “I’m actually starving.” Dr. Jace left and I turned back to my father. “I’ve been asleep for eighteen hours? Are you telling me it’s Monday morning already?”
“Yes, it’s Monday.” My father leaned forward in his chair. “But don’t worry about missing work. I’ve already been in contact with Nicolas. He’s already on his way. You’ve actually been asleep with a little extra help from the Doc. He wanted to be perfectly sure you would heal completely with no complications, and I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Injuries like yours take time to mend, especially for a newborn. I’m just thankful you came back to us in one piece. That was a hell of a ride you took us on.”
I was relieved to hear my business partner and best friend, Nick Michaels, was on his way. It would be good to have another ally here, since I had no idea how this was going to play out. “The whole transition was insane, but I don’t really remember how it went down.” I corrected myself. “No, that’s not exactly what I mean. I do have a clear memory of the pain, but for some reason I can’t remember the actual turning very well.”
My father sat back. “It’s not uncommon to disengage with your wolf during your first turning. Your change was an unexpected, traumatic event. As we discussed, fighting the process can make it excruciating. Your wolf likely took over while your human side remained in a shocklike state. It happens. It’s not ideal, but it happens.”
I was mildly surprised by his reaction, but ultimately happy he wasn’t going to hatch an immediate plan to chain me to a bed until I could master more control. “It didn’t feel like I was in shock, but I guess I could’ve been. In the end she toggled something between us and handed me control again. I’d been a passenger up until that point, but when I finally slid into the driver’s seat, I took one sniff of my injuries and passed out.” My first tough werewolf moment and I’d passed out like a champ.
My father regarded me quietly for a moment. He ran a single hand through his thick dark hair. It was a gesture of stress, and he didn’t do it often. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what happened there, but it can take a wolf many years to master Dominion over their wolf. If your wolf willingly handed control back to you, it seems you’re not going to have a problem with mastery.” He leaned in closer, his eyes alert. “It’s a sign your human side is strong, and that’s a damn good thing.”
A wolf was required to prove Dominion over his inner wolf before being allowed to reenter human society. By instinct your wolf wanted complete control—demanded it. The human side had to be powerful enough to override the wolf’s urges at all times. No exceptions.
I bit my bottom lip.
That wasn’t exactly how it’d happened. I knew I’d stopped her from killing the farmer, but I had no idea how to do it again if I had to. But I was content to drop it for now, and asked instead, “How did you know I changed? How did you find me?” I grew up on the Compound, so naturally I knew a lot about wolves, but I’d been kept in the dark about a lot of things too.
Before my father could answer, my brother bounded into the room. He’d grown even taller since I’d seen him last. “We found you because you stink, and stink is easy to track.” He dropped himself onto my bed, edging me over without a thought.
“Be careful, you big ox. I’m recovering from a serious injury here.” I chuckled as I shuffled my barely hurt leg out of his way to make room for him, but it still wasn’t enough because he was massive and the bed was tiny.
“Then you must not be that strong, wimpy girl, because if that was my leg it would be as good as new already.” He grinned, flashing teeth and dimples. My ever competitor.
“That’s easy for you to say,” I said. “You didn’t just get your leg almost blown off in a gunfight with an angry farmer.” I leaned over and gave him a playful shove. He didn’t budge an inch. At six foot five, he was built like he was trying out for a spot on the WWE circuit. Tyler resembled our father, we both did, except Tyler had blond hair instead of our shared darker shade. He’d also inherited a pair of shameful dimples, also courtesy of our late mother. But the one feature marking us so clearly as siblings was our matching sky blue eyes.
“Face it, Jess. I’ve gotten into a hell of a lot more scrapes than you have, and the next day I’m always fine,” Tyler said. “You’re just wimpier because you’re a girl.”
“Yeah, right. Remember that time with Danny in the mountains? You had to be carried out on a stretcher. And if I remember correctly, you were out cold for three days straight.”
“My skull was split open and my brains were leaking out. That hardly constitutes a minor injury.”
“The last time I checked, getting a leg blown off is not exactly minor either.”
“Oh, please. That”—he pointed to my hip—“it’s nothing more than a flesh wound.”