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“Ben!” Sabine whispered.

Uncle Roy grunted. “No, ‘s good. He needs to get over it.”

“He needs to stop having a fever,” Ben corrected. “She could drop by before her honeymoon. Wait, would that make things better or worse? Is it better to go cold turkey?”

“Everybody shut up about Luna,” Oliver shouted.

The forest went silent. Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the ghost of warmth in his chest. He’d never feel it again.

“Oliver,” Grandmother said.

“Nope,” he snapped. He struggled to a sitting position, pushing the sleeping bag and the hedgehog plushie off him. The hot flushes were back, chasing out the chill. They were even more powerful than usual, the heat curling through his chest in a way that was so similar to the bond that Oliver ached.

He gritted his teeth. “Seriously, if onemore of you say?—”

“Oliver,” Grandmother said, voice so tense and urgent that he stopped.

She was staring out into the trees, face slack with shock.

Oliver froze as a familiar scent hit him: jasmine and sage.

Heat pulsed through Oliver’s chest, a faint echo that died as soon as it arrived.

He turned.

Luna stood behind him, her blonde hair frizzing around her shoulders. She wore a puffer jacket and smelled like sweat and airports, but mostly, she smelled like the flowers he’d come to associate with her.

Another echo of warmth pulsed through his chest before dying. The bond was gone. But Luna was here. She washere, staring at him with the smallest smile on her pink lips. She looked uncertain. Like she wasn’t sure if he wanted her there.

“Luna,” Oliver breathed.

Luna’s smile grew. “Hi.”

A growl ripped through the forest, making everyone jolt. Uncle Roy was curled over, shaking hard. His teeth formed into huge fangs, fur rushing out to cover every inch of his face except the old burn scar. That stayed bare and gnarled, every single time.

“Sh-she can’t,” he choked, slurring through his half-transformed mouth. “I won’t—won’t let?—”

“Hey, whoa,” Ben said, surging up with his hands raised peacefully. “Cool down, Uncle. Nobody wants to hurt us.”

Uncle Roy shook his head. It twitched, ears shooting up toward his scalp, bones shifting under his skin. He let loose another growl and fell to his hands and knees, which were growing longer and hairier.

“He’s losing control,” Sabine warned. She started growing fangs, fur sprouting over her cheeks. Ben started shifting with her, but Oliver barely noticed. Everything in him screamed to put himself in between Luna and the threat.

He shoved himself up on shaky arms. “Uncle, don’t.”

“Roy,” Grandmother said, sharper than Oliver had ever heard it. A tail sprouted from underneath her skirt. “Standdown.”

Uncle Roy arched, his fingers turning into paws. The transformation was complete. His head snapped up, eyes flashing on Luna. There was no human left in them. Just wolf. Primal and snarling and scared, ready to pounce.

“Uncle,” Oliver yelled.

Uncle Roy leapt.

Oliver surged up. The only sound that existed was Luna’s yelp.

There was no slow change, like Ben and Sabine, and even Grandmother, stumbling after them on half-formed paws. The wolf burst out of Oliver as if it had never left, the world coming alive around him in a way it hadn’t in over a year. Oliver didn’t see anything but Luna, who had her feet planted even as she trembled.

He raced forward, barreling into Uncle Roy and shoving him into a tree. Uncle Roy snarled and snapped,but Oliver was already climbing off him. He darted to Luna and curled around her, baring his teeth.