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“You’re right. Sorry, Ar.” Penny sobers a little. “Now, tell us. What do you need to know? You’ve been banged and claimed. But did that bullheaded Bull forget to tell you what it means?”

I breathe out, my voice soft and trembling. “He kind of told me. I mean, he was all possessive when we, um, did the deed. But then I overheard him with the Crew.”

The words slip from me like blood from a wound.

“Heard him?” Jez asks, and she’s frowning.

“They were talking, and I heard them say something about the Rut.”

Their faces go still.

Confused, maybe.

Even Penny.

“And, well.” My voice drops, thick with fear. “He said he might, that is, if the Rut takes him, he’ll need to be with other women. To stop it from, I don’t know, taking over or something.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He said the Rut can make a Shifter turn into their animals permanently. Like forever. So, he might not ever come back from it.”

I whisper the last part because saying it out loud makes it feel too real. Too final.

And it’s breaking me.

Because last night—God, was it just last night—I didn’t just give Kian my body.

I gave him my heart.

And now I don’t know if I can survive watching him give any part of himself to someone else.

They all go dead still, every one of them.

Three powerful women, supernatural mates of men who could rip trees out of the ground without breaking a sweat, and yet, in this moment, they’re looking at me like I just lobbed a grenade into the middle of their kitchen.

The silence stretches, and the ache inside my chest grows tighter.

I bite my lip, nerves fraying at the edges, heart thundering in my ears.

“Maybe I should go?—”

“No! Absolutely not.”

Penny’s voice slices through the air like a whip, sharp and immediate.

She plants her hands on the table and hauls her heavily pregnant body upright like a queen rising to rally her army.

Jez and Avery track her as she begins to pace, murmuring under her breath like she’s half baking, half plotting murder.

“Okay,” she says abruptly, spinning to face us so fast I nearly topple out of my chair.

“This is imbecilic. Ludicrous. Bullshit with a capital B. No pun intended!”

Her eyes lock on mine, intense and fiery.

“Did he claim you?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer.