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Derek’s lips twitched. “That’s Rivera. Johnson’s the one checking the perimeter.”

“Ah. The one who looks like he could kill me with his pinky. Got it.”

“No one’s killing you,” all three brothers said in perfect unison.

“That’s still creepy when you do that,” I informed them, but my attention was caught by movement below. The team was maneuvering into precise positions, reminding me of the military documentaries Derek sometimes watched. “So… how does this work exactly? Do you just… poof into wolves?”

“Poof?” Marcus sounded pained.

“Technical term,” I said primly. “Very scientific.”

Caleb snickered. “Not exactly a ‘poof’ situation, little mate. Though your version sounds much more dignified than the reality.”

“There’s a specific process,” Derek began in his tactical voice.

“That’s Derek-speak for ‘we get naked first,’” Caleb stage-whispered.

I choked on my smoothie. Maria, who was arranging snacks nearby, didn’t even try to hide her laugh.

“It’s a natural part of—” Derek started.

“The stripping or the shifting?” I couldn’t help asking.

“Both,” Marcus answered, his voice dropping to that dangerous purr that made my skin tingle. “Though some of us are more… graceful about it than others.”

“I am extremely graceful,” Caleb protested.

A sharp whistle sounded from below.

“Time for the show.” Caleb grinned. “Try not to swoon too hard when you see Derek in all his furry glory.”

I turned back to the window, hoping they’d attribute my blush to the smoothie’s “secret ingredient” rather than the mental image of Derek… shifting.

This was purely educational, I firmly reminded myself. Just research. Completely professional observation of supernatural transformation. Nothing to do with how the tactical gear highlighted certain… aspects of werewolf anatomy.

“Focus,” Derek murmured close to my ear, making me jump. When had he gotten so close? “Watch how they maintain formation even during the change.”

Right. Formation. Military precision. Not the way Derek’s voice had dropped an octave or how his breath ghosted across my neck or?—

The first howl split the air, and suddenly I had much bigger things to focus on.

Holy. Shit.

I’d seen nature documentaries. I’d watched Discovery Channel specials. I’d even caught a few episodes of that werewolf show Luke was obsessed with. None of them had prepared me for… this.

The change rippled through Derek’s team like a wave. Bones shifted and reformed; muscles flowed like liquid beneath skin that sprouted fur in patterns as distinct as fingerprints. But it wasn’t the physical transformation that held me transfixed—it was the raw power, the barely contained wildness of it.

“Breathe,” Marcus reminded me softly.

Right. Breathing. Important thing, that.

Johnson shifted first, his massive black form somehow maintaining perfect military bearing even as a wolf. The others followed in precise formation, their tactical gear dissolving into shadow—because apparently supernatural clothing was a thing—as fur replaced Kevlar.

“The gear is specially enchanted,” Caleb explained, noticing my confusion. “Expensive, but better than having to replace uniforms every time.”

“Of course it is,” I said. “Because regular workout clothes would be too normal.”

Each wolf was unique—different colors, markings, sizes—but they moved as one unit, coordinated in a way that spoke of years of training. It was beautiful and terrifying.