Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
But I also didn’t want him to be taken by surprise if he did end up having the ability to shapeshift. So we’d talked once, and then I never brought it up again.
But now, it seems it’s happening. Geo’s shifter genes were strong enough. He’s a wolf, like his father.
And I have absolutely no idea how to help him through this life change.
I head back inside, my coffee sloshing in my stomach. When I reach the front door, I get another nasty surprise. There are claw marks on the faded wood, down at the bottom. The bronze doorknob is crushed, which is impossible. Unless… someone unnaturally strong gripped it hard and broke it. Someone who didn’t know his own strength.
Geo is at the table, scarfing down his breakfast, barely chewing each mouthful. Geoffrey ate like that, especially after a shift.
“Mijo.” I approach him slowly. “Last night, did you…” How do I say this?
Geo looks up and blanches when he sees the torn shirt I’m holding. His expression shutters. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“Sweetie.” I sink down into a chair next to him. “It's normal. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I said, I don't want to talk about it.” He shoves away from the table and stomps off to the living room.
“We need to talk about it.” I follow him. “Did you leave the house during the night?”
He’s at the door, putting on his coat. He mumbles something.
“What was that?”
“You know I did,” he says loudly, his eyes flashing bright green.
“What happened to your shirt?” I hold up the torn cloth. “Did you get in a fight? Is this your blood?”
“No. I…hunted.” He mutters the last word.
I force myself to swallow past the tight band around my throat. “You were a wolf.”
He ducks his head, looking away. He tried to hide this from me–does he not want me to know? Does he think I’m ashamed of him? I’m messing this up.
I set the shirt down on a side table and try again. “Geo, it’s normal for a boy–a shifter–your age to start to shift. Your father and I hoped you would inherit his genes. This is a good thing.”
He ignores me, swinging on his backpack.
“I think we should talk about this.”
“Mom, no. I’m going to be late.” He opens the front door and slips out.
I’m not a shifter. How do I even begin to help Geo navigate puberty?
While I was pregnant, Geoffrey and I talked about our son possibly having shifter genes, but the adolescent onset of his shifter powers was so far away. Discussing the future and facing reality are two different things.
And it’s not like there are parenting books I can read. How to train your shifter animal. Seven steps to easy shifting.
Geo was out last night. He turned into a wolf, tore his shirt and somehow got blood on it. At least it wasn’t his blood.
He’s only thirteen. He can’t be running around at night. As a wolf. What if someone saw him?
God, this is a nightmare. I don’t even know how to keep my son safe. How to make him stay in the house all night. Whether he’ll come home covered in animal blood. Or worse–not come home at all.
There are hunters out there who might shoot a wolf for sport. For a trophy head.
I shudder.
I throw open the door. Geo is striding down the driveway.
“Geoffrey, come back here.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snaps without turning around. “That’s not my name.”
“Don't talk to your mother like that,” a deep voice rumbles, and both Geo and I turn towards the interruption.
A motorcycle’s parked fifty feet away, on the other end of the quiet cul-de-sac. If it was there a few minutes ago, I didn’t notice it. Beside the bike slouches a tall man in baggy sweatpants and a brown leather jacket. He crosses the cul-de-sac and heads up our drive. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud. The light hits his blond, buzz cut hair, and for a second, he looks so like my late husband, it takes my breath away. Then he angles his head and a dimple appears on either cheek. “Hey, Julia.”
Geo’s gone tense at my side. “Who are you?” He steps in front me protectively, even though he’s only an inch taller than I am. “How do you know my mom?”
“It’s okay, Geo.” I put a hand on my son’s vibrating arm. “I know him. This is your Uncle Channing.”
Chapter Three
Julia
“I don’t have an uncle,” Geo says.
“Geo.” Channing's voice is deeper than I remember. “It’s been a few years.”
“Ten.” I can’t keep the tightness out of my voice, and Geo tenses again. A low growl rumbles in his throat. Not a human growl.
That’s his wolf.
I’m suddenly flooded with memories of his father’s growl that surfaced any time Geoffrey thought I was in danger.