Page 16

I start to pace, the tension crawling up my spine like fire ants.

My Crew’s eyes are on me.

Watching.

Waiting.

But for once, I don’t have a joke to deflect, or a cocky remark to throw like armor.

Just this gnawing fear in my gut.

“Y’all know about me?” I ask, stopping mid-stride, struck by this sudden and honest-to-gods idea that maybe, just maybe I don’t have to carry this alone.

They’ve been my brothers for months now.

My family.

Even if most days I’m the punchline to our collective sitcom.

Emmet cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

I exhale. Tight. Pained. “When I came here, I was running from something.”

Zeke, blunt as ever, scaly rage simmering just beneath the surface, hisses, “Fuck, bro. We’re all running from something.”

But Max, Alpha calm, Alpha clear , he just cuts through the noise.

“What is it, Kian?”

And I say it.

Whisper it, like the word itself might bite me.

“The Rut.”

Silence falls like a guillotine.

Even the barn seems to hold its breath.

“The Rut? No shit,” Emmet breathes, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

I nod, jaw tight.

“My father succumbed to it. That’s why I’m here. And he’s, well, wherever the fuck he is. Probably stuck in his Bull, plowing through a herd of dairy cows as we speak.”

Dante’s head jerks. “Dairy cows? Like regular ones? Not Shifters?”

I meet his stare. Hold it. Let him see I’m not joking.

This isn’t a punchline.

This is my goddamn nightmare.

“The Rut infects a Bull, man.” I say, voice quiet and sharp as broken glass. “It takes over. First the body. Then the mind.”

Max stiffens. “I don’t understand a thing you’re saying. Someone better fucking explain. What the fuck is the Rut?”

Emmet clears his throat, glancing at me for permission.

I give him a nod. He’s got the words. I can’t breathe.

“Some subspecies of Shifters. Bovids and Cervids mostly,” Emmet manages before Max interrupts.

“Who-vids and What-vids?”

We all snort.

Max wasn’t always a cowboy. The city slicker only recently learned which end of a horse to saddle, for fuck’s sake.

But he means well. And right now, I need that.

Emmet sighs, then goes into a deeper explanation.

“I mean Bulls, Elk, Reindeer, Caribou, Moose?—”

“Meece,” Dante mutters, trying for humor.

Zeke smacks his arm.

Dante shrugs.

And yeah, I snort my amusement.

But it’s hollow. Thin.

Emmet shoots him a look, then continues for the third time.

“They go through something similar to what their animal counterparts do during breeding season. It’s called the Rut. But because Bovid and Cervid Shifters are so rare, there’s not a lot of info on it.”

The barn goes quiet again.

But Emmet’s not done.

“There are stories , though.”

“And?” Max presses, not quite understanding.

I step in, dragging the words from my chest like they’re carved in stone.

“He means horror stories.”

The silence sharpens, every ear on me.

“Tales of guys like me who lose themselves to the Rut. Who can’t stop. Who—” I swallow hard, my own feelings of shame thick and sour in the air. “Who fuck their way through anything that moves. And then, when their beasts still aren’t satisfied?”

I pause, bile rising in my throat.

“Then what?” Max demands.

I lift my chin. Look them all in the eyes.

“Then they shift for the last time. And they stay that way. Until they die.”

The barn stills.

Even the air feels frozen.

Then I hear it.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

A sound so loud and erratic it doesn’t belong to any of my Crew.

I turn around.

Fuck.

There she is.

Arliss.

Standing in the doorway.

Her blue eyes are wide with shock.

Her precious heart is pounding.

And I know.

I fucking know.

She heard everything.

“Arliss—”

“Shit,” Max mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

She blinks, and it’s like I can see her trying to piece it together. Trying to pretend she’s not shaking.

“Hi, everyone. Sorry to interrupt. Um, I’m Arliss. C-can someone drive me home? I have to get tea for my Gramps.”

Her voice is small. Cracked.

I take a step forward, every instinct roaring to close the distance.

“Wait. I’ll take you,” I say.

Desperate.

Hopeful.

Mostly pathetic.

But she flinches.

Flinches.

And the motion guts me.

“No, uh, thanks. I—I think it would be better if someone else drives me.”

Her voice breaks at the end.

And so do I.

“Fuck. Arliss, please—” I take another step, but she moves back.

Hits the barn door with her elbow and yelps.

My Bull screams inside me, raging that she’s hurt because of me.

Because she’s scared of me.

And I am two seconds from falling apart.

Dante steps in.

Good Bear , my Bull says.

He’s right. The man is solid, quiet, safe.

“I got her, Kian. I’ll take her home.”

He turns to her, softer than I’ve ever seen him.

“We met before. I’ll get my mate and cub. We’ll drive you back to town, okay?”

Arliss nods, trembling.

I know she’ll be safe with Avery, Rosie, and Dante taking care of her.

I know the Bear won’t let anything happen.

But it doesn’t stop the way my soul splinters as she walks away.

As she walks away from me.

It takes both Max and Zeke to hold me back.

And even then, I can’t look away. I don’t stop watching.

Because in that moment, I come to terms with the hardest fucking thing I have ever had to acknowledge and feel.

And that is genuine despair.

I might’ve just lost the only thing that ever truly mattered.

Please don’t let her go.

And for the first time in my life, I understand the Rut isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me.