Reese (Pack of Misfits #2) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,19

a human scream. My scream.

My bones snap and grow. My nerves light up like a string of lights. Skin stretches, features form, my tail disappears, and slowly, agonizingly, my body changes back into the other half of me.

I’m panting, naked and curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the room, covered in sweat by the time the shift is over. Everything is...strange.

My eyesight is brighter, the curves of my eyes different from my rat’s, making my perception off-kilter. Murmurs sound around me, and there are scents of varying emotions that I can’t pick out. My body feels heavy and lanky, too spindly to be able to move swiftly. My long brown hair is half covering my slick face, sticking to my forehead and hooking onto my eyelashes.

Through the strands, I look up with watery eyes and see Alpha Hugo still kneeling in front of me. “Alright, kid?” he asks quietly.

I look away, unable to answer him. My throat works over an awkward swallow, my tongue feeling too thick in my mouth to speak. God, it’s been so long since I was human. So long since I’ve talked, or smiled, or walked upright.

“Here,” Addie comes down next to me with a long lounge shirt. Gently, she slips it over my head and feeds my jellied arms through the sleeves, the blue fabric scratching over my sensitive skin.

With her help, I sit up, looking around and trying to come to terms with all the new feelings and perceptions in my human body. It’s incredibly disorienting.

I manage to sit up on my butt, my legs curled under me at awkward, uncomfortable angles. The shirt Addie gave me reaches down to my thighs, covering me from view, but the clothing feels weird and unnatural, and all I want to do is rip it off again, modesty be damned.

Addie stands and backs up, and I’m forced to put my attention back on the alpha. He’s dressed in his clothes again, a pair of faded blue jeans and a worn leather vest that he seems to favor. I have an up close and personal look at the brown scruff on his jaw and chin as he looks at me.

“What’s your name?”

I open my mouth to answer, only to panic when I can’t quite work out how to talk. My tongue is big and floppy and dry.

“Take your time,” Addie tells me gently.

I clear my throat, hoping that will help, and feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I must look like an idiot to everyone. What kind of dummy can’t even remember how to talk?

Shame colors my face, and my lip quivers, but just when I’m about to burst into tears, a shiny lug nut appears in front of me.

Startled, I swallow back the sob that was about to come out, the sudden arrival of the silvery offering knocking me off kilter.

“Here you go, Mousey.”

Lug Nut holds it out to me, his smile like a soothing balm. My eyes flick down to the chain around his neck, where only two lug nuts now hang.

With a shaky hand, I reach up and pluck the lug nut from his fingers. As soon as the smooth shiny metal is in my hand, I relax a bit. I smile down at it, admiring the scratched-up steel. This would look so good next to my M&M’S. “Thanks.”

My eyes widen and my head whips up. Holy shit, that word just came out of me! I just spoke, like it was second nature. Sure, it was a little scratchy, but I actually talked, and it makes me feel...human.

Lug Nut grins at me.

“What’s your name?” the alpha asks again, breaking the moment.

I blink and look away from Lug Nut’s brown eyes. “Reese Lopez,” I manage to answer, my voice not really anything more than a whisper.

“Alright, Reese. I don’t know how much you’ve been able to pick up, but you’re safe here with us,” he assures me. “I apologize for breaking your former alpha bond and forming a new one. But we were concerned that you were being held against your will.”

“I was,” I admit.

He nods grimly, and I can see a flash of anger cross in his light eyes. “If you want me to sever this new alpha bond with you, all you have to do is say so, okay?”

My eyebrows go up in surprise. I don’t think any alpha has ever offered to let a pack member go rogue out of the generosity of his heart. It’s usually only done