I shower and change before heading to Emma’s house. She lives in the next town over with a few roommates she met at Silver Birch Community college last fall. They’re nice enough. To me, at least. There’s always some kind of silent war going on in that house that Emma keeps me updated on. She acts as the unbiased-but-not-actually-unbiased mother figure because the other two girls just can’t agree on anything.

Emma has always been sweet to the core, unless provoked. Like most werewolves, she has a bit of a temper at times. She’s studying to be a nurse because she’s always wanted to be able to heal others. I still remember the day Mom broke it to her that she couldn’t become a Healer like Ella Jo. We were only six years old at the time, and Emma had actually cried when she discovered she would never be able to heal my condition away. 

Being a Healer isn't something you can train for. Some Healers were born so long ago that no one really knows the date, and others just...appear somehow. If you ask Ella Jo about it, she’ll just claim she was born in the ‘60s, then giggle to herself and leave the room. Mom told me that Jojo was “chosen,” but the details of how that works aren’t very clear. 

I have to strike the keys in the ignition three times before my ratty Tacoma grumbles to life. Well, I guess it’s shared property between me and Ben. We’d fixed it up together back in our junior year of high school. 

Ben’s been my friend ever since he came to the pack bloodied and limping when he was just thirteen. A Rogue. I still don’t know what happened to his family or his pack, and he can’t even tell me. Jojo took him in to care for his injuries, but he woke up screaming every night for months, even after he’d physically healed. He didn’t talk much back then, and the day he finally asked for her to wipe his memories, she complied. 

Healers aren’t just there for werewolves when they’re so hurt they can’t trigger their own healing. They possess old magic that gives them access to abilities and knowledge that us basic beings can’t even comprehend. They’re more like guides to the Alphas and packs, so they’re the most respected beings in our culture.

When I was born, a man named Marcus was our pack’s Healer, but he disappeared with my father. I never met either of them, and I know better than to ask Mom. Max mentioned our father once when he found a photo album in the attic, and Mom tore it out of his hands and threw it in the fire without a word. 

Mom rose to Alpha status after our father left, and Jojo revealed herself as a Healer. She’s been a part of our pack ever since. I wonder if Ella Jo knows about Shadows? 

I can feel my stomach sinking as I pull into Emma’s driveway. It’s not my fault. None of this is within my control. The parking brake creaks as I jam it in place. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a piece of shit, though.

Emma’s my oldest friend, and I’ve suddenly realized that this could really be it. She’s always talked about a future in Tantern as if we’re fated to be together, and I’ve never really questioned it or objected. Up until two weeks ago. 

I’ve been dreading this moment. It’s weighed on me almost as much as my imprint and Shadow status. I’m about to destroy her entire plan.

“Guess what?” Emma greets me, bouncing on her heels a little as I clamber out of the truck.

I force a smile and enter her outstretched arms, those soft brown coils tickling my chin as we hug. 

Emma doesn’t need a verbal response from me. She never has. “I went to the store earlier, and they actually had it!” She’s out of my grasp and in the house before I can even blink.

I eventually catch up. Even if I sprint, I still won’t come close to her wolf speed. As soon as I’m inside, Emma hands me a pint of blueberry ice cream and a spoon, then ushers me towards the couch. It’s our absolute favorite, but it isn’t blueberry season yet and the stores typically can’t get enough shipped in to satisfy the population. Everybody’s always looking for blueberry ice cream. At least, everyone with any taste whatsoever. 

“Thank you.” I pop the lid off and hand her the spoon. 

It’s only right she gets the first bite. Like that’s gonna help at all. 

“Olivia and Mary are downtown tonight, so we can actually relax.” She plops a spoonful in her mouth before passing it back to me.

I have to wait. I can’t ruin blueberry ice cream for her. 

We watch almost three episodes of one of her crime shows before I finally can’t take it anymore and abruptly turn off the TV. Oh, oops.

“Sam...?” Emma peers up at me from her corner of the couch. There’s a golden gow beneath the rich brown of her cheeks that matches her eyes as they shift all over my face. She’s worried.

“Sorry, just um…” I gently set the remote on the table. Nice going. Very subtle.

She’s sitting upright next to me in less than a second, and I feel a rush through my brain. Everything just needs to slow down for a damn minute.

“I imprinted on someone else.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through one more time.

Silence. 

I choose to stare at my toes against the light green carpet so I can just get this over with. “I’m so sorry. It’s someone I don’t even know, and If I could have a choice it would be you. I need you to know that. I thought it was you all this time, I just...I don’t know what’s happening.” My voice is underground somewhere, and I’m wishing I could fall into wherever that is and disappear from this moment right about now.

“Oh.” Emma sounds...muffled.

I peak over at her and discover she’s covering her face with those tiny hands. Little pink nails spread across her forehead as she takes a deep breath.

“Em…”

“Oh...oh my.” She shakes her head slightly. There’s a tremble in her high-pitched voice, like timid notes of a flute sounding from a distance.

My chest feels like it’s collapsing inward and I crumble, brushing my hands over hers before pulling her against me. Then her tears come. Silent, but enough to soak through my t-shirt onto my skin. They’re warm. She’s warm, and getting warmer by the second.

“I’m so sorry.” My voice cracks and I squeeze my eyes shut, resting my head against her hair that always smells faintly of wildflowers in the lake breeze. The coils provide soft, tickling caresses I miss even now as they brush along my cheeks and nose.

“Your heartbeat…” Emma mutters, her pitch lowered suddenly. “It’s slow.” She moves her head away from my chest and places her hand on my damp cotton shirt. 

I don’t know what to say. She’s aware I can’t hear hers when I’m in human form.

“I wish it was you, too.” She closes her eyes and drops her chin. “But I think deep down I’ve known that you...that we aren’t…” Her hand waves in the air as if to finish her thought.

Um...? “What do you mean?” I whisper, completely shocked.

She cracks a tight smile and finally meets my eyes. Her irises flicker between gold and brown, indicating that her wolf side is trying to get her to feel angry, but she’s fighting it. 

“Sam, we’ve never even-!” Emma raises her arms and lets them fall, making a slapping noise on her legs. “We hug and cuddle and it’s sweet, and please understand that I love it and love you too, so so much...” She pauses and gives me a little laugh. “But we’ve never even kissed on the lips.” She folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head to the side, eyebrows erect with that look. 

“I didn’t think we needed to,” I mumble as heat spreads up my neck. 

“Hah! See? You can’t even consider it as an option.” She inhales sharply. “And I never really minded, I guess.” She shrugs. “We were just so...comfortable, and I never wanted that to change.” 

I stare at the little blue pillow on the couch behind her. She stays silent.

“Neither did I,” I say, after thinking it over.

“Then I guess we don’t have to change. We just stay best friends.” Emma takes a quick breath and smiles. “It’s what we’ve been all along, and what we’ll always be.” She nods to herself, and I notice the flicker in her eyes is gone. She’s being genuine. 

“Thank you.” I relax and melt my arms around her.

She giggles softly and pats my back in response.

That’s when it happens.

I fall to the floor, my head splintering from the inside. I can feel my canines sharpening as my instincts take over my entire being. A deep fear wrenches my gut until all I see are my legs trembling. Something’s not right. I release a growl so fierce that Emma yells and jumps away from me. He’s not okay. 

I’m in the truck in a matter of moments, my growing claws tearing the leather steering wheel. 

William’s in danger.