Page 10 of Ranger’s Oath (Lone Star Wolf Rangers #5)

SADIE

L ater, after I manage to get some sleep, Cassidy appears, takes my arm and insists we step outside.

She says I need to face this on my terms, not in panic, not under threat.

I can still feel the echo of Gage’s nearness in the hall, his voice hard with command as he barked orders to secure the property.

My body is humming from it, unsettled, craving, confused.

By the time Cassidy steers me into the open air, my nerves are stretched taut, my heart tripping in my chest.

Cassidy guides me toward the open stretch of pasture just beyond the ranch house. I drag my feet, nerves raw, until she glances back at me. She pauses, her hand brushing mine.

“You need to know,” she says quietly, “clothes don’t survive the change. The mist destroys them. That’s why we always have places to tuck them away.” She nods toward a small bench by the fence where a folded blanket rests.

“Every ranch house, safehouse, and patrol route has caches,” Cassidy adds. “Jeans, boots, sweats—things we can grab after a shift. Rule number one: never assume you’ll come back in the same clothes you left in.”

My eyes widen. “So… we just strip in the open?”

Her mouth quirks with faint amusement. “It’s easier than shredding half your wardrobe. Besides, it’s just us. No judgment.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, but I tug at my shirt anyway. “This feels ridiculous.”

Cassidy’s laugh is low and kind. “You’ll get used to it.”

Together we shed our clothes, tucking them neatly aside before stepping into the pasture, bare and vulnerable. The air is cool against my skin.

“Don't you think I was frightened when Rush wanted to turn me? To make me like him?” she asks gently. “No. But I chose it, and I was ready. You didn’t get that choice, Sadie, and I’m sorry for that.”

My throat tightens. “You sank your teeth into me without asking. How am I supposed to trust that I won’t lose everything I am?”

She stops, her expression steady. “Because you didn’t die. I saved you. And now you have the chance to live with more strength than you can imagine. You just have to call forth your she-wolf and let it happen.”

I look out at the pasture. The light paints the grass in gold, beautiful and intimidating. My heart thunders in my chest. “What if I can’t come back from it?”

“You will,” Cassidy promises. “I’ll be right here, the same way Rush was for me.” Cassidy glances over her shoulder, calm as stone. “Breathe, Sadie. You’re safe here. You’re not alone.”

Her certainty steadies me, but only a little. The space feels too big, the air too charged, like the whole world is waiting for me to fail. I fold my arms, hugging myself tight. “What if I don’t want this?”

Cassidy lays her hand gently on my arm. “You don't have a choice.

I didn't have one either. I couldn't just watch you die. You survived because I had to try and save you. I gave you a chance to live the only way I could.” Cassidy steps closer, her eyes reflecting the setting sun, wolf-bright.

“I want you to shift the first time when you or we aren't under fire.

I want you to shift the first time on your own terms. I'll be right here and you'll be okay. You’ll see.”

I want to believe her. She’s my sister, my anchor, the one person I always trusted.

But the memory of her leaning in, the sharp flash of teeth and the sudden bite, the shock of waking up and learning she'd changed my life forever—those moments still sear through me. Gratitude and resentment collide until my chest aches. A tremor runs through me before I can stop it. Cassidy’s gaze sharpens, catching every flicker of doubt on my face.

“Close your eyes,” she says softly. “Don’t fight it. Invite it.”

I do as she says. For a breath there is only silence, a suspended moment where nothing changes and I wonder if I imagined it all.

Then heat surges through my veins, rushing faster with every heartbeat until it floods me, stretching into my fingertips and down to my toes.

My knees wobble, and I feel as though the earth has tilted.

My breath catches hard, sharp enough to sting, a knot of fear and wonder tangling in my chest. A tremor races across my skin, a charge that makes every hair rise, as though fire has crawled inside me and set me alight.

The rush tears a gasp from my lips, raw and uncontrollable, and I clutch Cassidy’s arm, trying to anchor myself while torn between a sharp edge of fear and a dizzying surge of exhilaration.

“Let her come forward,” she whispers. “Don’t choke her down.”

The world answers. Mist rolls up from the ground, curling in ribbons of violet, green, and gold.

The colors twist together, thunder murmurs low and distant, lightning cracks within the mist like the sky itself has descended.

I’m surrounded, swallowed, remade. There is no pain, only surrender.

My breath stutters once, then steadies. My heart beats in rhythm with the thunder.

Cassidy’s voice threads through the storm. “Look at me, Sadie. You’re stronger than this fear. Breathe through it. Yield.”

I let go, surrendering to the storm of color and sound. The mist folds around me, humming with thunder and sparking light, and then it seeps into me, reshaping me from the inside out.

Strength unfurls in my muscles, my body stretching into lines that feel both alien and inevitable.

The world sharpens—every blade of grass glitters with detail, every sound strikes clear as glass.

I lower my gaze and see paws where hands once were, claws sunk into the earth.

A rush of awe slams through me, fierce and undeniable. I am no longer just Sadie. I am wolf.

‘Run with me,’ I hear a voice in my head say and realize it is my she-wolf. ‘Be one with me.’

Mist rises again, swirling around Cassidy until it peels back and reveals her wolf.

She stands solid and elegant, fur catching the light, eyes burning like embers.

She dips her head once, a clear command to follow.

I try, lurching forward on four uncertain legs, each step clumsy and uneven.

The ground stretches beneath me, enormous, my body out of sync.

My paws tangle, and I nearly spill sideways.

Cassidy circles close, brushing me with her flank, nudging me steady with the calm patience of someone who’s done this before.

Her presence steadies me, a reminder that I am not alone in this new skin.

I push off. My first strides are graceless, like a newborn foal finding its legs.

Grass tangles under my paws, earth slips away too fast. I want to stop, crawl back into the safe shell of my human skin, but then something inside me loosens.

The fear thins, replaced by something wild and fierce.

My stride lengthens. My body remembers what my mind doesn’t. I’m running. And it’s glorious.

Wind roars through my fur. The ground pounds beneath me.

I leap over a fallen log and land without breaking pace.

Cassidy howls, a bright note of joy, and before I know it, I answer.

The sound startles me, raw and primal, but it also fills me with exhilaration.

I feel alive in a way I never have before.

The run carries us deeper into the pasture.

The sun sets and the moon begins to rise overhead, endless and ethereal.

My fear recedes with every stride. Cassidy darts ahead, then falls back to nip at my shoulder, playful and urging.

I lunge after her, gaining speed. My clumsy start fades, and power takes its place.

Every movement becomes instinctive, graceful.

As the darkness gathers, at the edge of the tree line, a darker shape moves. Larger, heavier. Watching.

Gage.

His wolf is massive, fur dark, eyes glowing fiercely.

The sight of him slams into me, a shock that steals my breath and makes my chest tighten.

For a breath, fear threatens to drag me back under.

He’s terrifying, all muscle and power, a predator without equal.

But then his gaze locks on mine, steady and unblinking, and something inside me stills. He’s not hunting me. He’s with me.

I stumble once, catch myself, then lift my head higher and howl.

His presence shifts from menace to anchor.

The run grows smoother, my body aligning with the rhythm of the wolf within.

Strength surges through me. Grace replaces clumsiness.

I race across the field with Cassidy at my side and Gage shadowing us from the edges.

For the first time since everything changed, I don’t feel broken. I feel whole.

We run as the moon rises and until the night blurs into a ribbon of motion and breath.

My paws barely seem to touch the ground.

I laugh inside, though it comes out as a kind of excited yip that lengthens into a glorious howl, wild and unrestrained.

Cassidy throws her head back and howls again.

Gage answers from the shadows, his deeper note curling around mine.

The sound winds through mine, and heat stirs in my chest.

I shouldn’t notice him like this, not now, but my gaze keeps dragging back to him.

Each glimpse sets my pulse hammering, dangerous and irresistible.

Even in this form, the weight of his presence presses through me, stirring heat low and fierce.

The way he moves, every stride pouring out raw strength and control, shakes me to the core.

I dig deeper, muscles burning as I surge forward, refusing to look small beneath his watchful eyes.

Cassidy veers toward the stream, splashing through the shallows.

I follow, paws striking cold water, spray catching the starlight like a scatter of diamonds.

For a moment, I forget fear entirely. I’m wild, unbound.

Gage comes up on the far bank, his silhouette filling the rise.

He pauses there, commanding and lethal, before launching forward again. My heart slams with exhilaration.

The pasture opens into rolling hills, and Cassidy urges me up the slope.

My muscles burn, but the pain is sweet, purposeful.

We crest the ridge together, the ranch sprawled below like a sleeping beast. I throw back my head and let out a howl, long and defiant.

My voice echoes, carrying across the land.

Gage joins in, his deep voice vibrating through me, and Cassidy adds hers until the night itself seems to sing.

I run down the slope, stumbling at first, then finding my balance, my body settling into the wolf’s rhythm.

The ground feels different now, like it belongs to me.

I catch scents carried on the wind, hear the flap of an owl’s wings high above, see every blade of grass bending. It overwhelms, but it also thrills.

Cassidy brushes against me, her fur warm. I can feel her pride flooding me with warmth. I nose her shoulder, instinctive and grateful. My tail flicks with a joy I didn’t know I could feel.

But it’s Gage’s gaze that roots me. He steps closer, enormous and fierce, but his eyes soften when they meet mine.

For a heartbeat the world narrows to that unspoken connection, wolf to wolf.

Heat rushes through me, frightening and thrilling all at once.

My wolf recognizes his in a way I can’t explain.

Something sparks deep inside me, hot and reckless, skating close to longing. I tear my gaze away, unsettled, yet the sensation clings, burning like a secret mark. Even when I dart after Cassidy, I can feel Gage watching, the weight of his stare heavy on my back—protective, claiming, unrelenting.

We loop back toward the pasture. The mist stirs at the edges of my vision, rising in swirls of color. Cassidy slows beside me, her pace steady, reassuring as we approach the place we shifted.

The thunder deepens, lightning sparking inside the mist. It wraps around me, wild and alive.

My paws falter, and in a breath, the wolf falls away.

Skin and bone return. I stumble forward, back in human form, breathless and shaking.

My hair clings damp against my temples, my pulse racing. Cassidy steadies me with her hands.

“You did it,” Cassidy says softly, wrapping a blanket around me. “Your first run.”

Cassidy keeps her hand on my arm as we walk back toward the porch. My legs still feel uncertain, not quite mine, but the blanket steadies me as much as her presence does. She eases me onto the steps, presses a steaming mug into my hands, and waits until I sip.

“First lesson now that you’ve shifted,” she says, quiet but firm. “Sense-gating. The noise, the smells, the brightness—if you let it all rush you at once, it will flatten you. You have to choose what to open and what to dim.”

She has me close my eyes, breathe, then focus only on the sound of the wind in the pasture.

She tells me to picture a dial in my mind.

I turn it down until the buzz of insects fades, then lift it until I can hear the barn owls again.

The exercise is simple but it makes the chaos inside me ease.

For the first time since waking in Galveston, the sharp edges of my senses soften on command.

The adrenaline lingers long after the mist fades.

Beyond Cassidy, Gage remains at the tree line, his wolf massive and still.

His eyes find mine, holding steady, a silent promise or a warning—maybe both.

My skin feels stretched too thin, my heartbeat too loud.

The night air still clings to my tongue, sharp and electric, and I swear I can feel the earth pounding beneath paws that are no longer there.

Sleep will not come tonight. I already know it.