Zayden instinctively tightened his hold on Killian as the change engulfed his friend. To be honest, this was the first time he’d actually seen Killian transform fully into the lupine state and, although it was horrifying, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. That is, until the rest of Rogue turned the corner and he heard Ryan’s puzzled voice: “Zayden, what are you doing?”

Killian, fully wolf now, growled from behind Zayden’s leg and drew his lips back to expose yellowed fangs. Before Zayden could grab him again the werewolf had darted out from behind him, narrowed bright blue eyes at Ryan, and lunged.

“Killian, NO!” the bassist yelled, diving for the huge wolf. Was he crazy? Yeah, probably, but he also knew Killian would never forgive himself if he hurt Ryan or any other members of the band. Zayden hit Killian broadside and the wolf yelped in surprise as he was tackled to the floor. Yellow-green eyes glared accusingly at Zayden, who tightened his hold in the thick golden pelt. The bassist hissed, “Come on, Killian, get a grip. I know you’re in there, mate. You’re the alpha of this little pack, remember?” The words sounded strange coming off his tongue, but if they would help Killian, he didn’t care if he sounded like a nut. “Change back. Now.”

Gradually the accusing look in those glowing yellow eyes faded and the big lupine stopped struggling. Zayden released him and stepped back, and the werewolf padded out of sight.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Shane demanded.

Zayden glanced over at his bandmates, who had frozen in place, faces pale. He’d almost forgotten they were there. “Uh, well, I’m probably not the best person to be telling you.”

“But you know what’s going on, don’t you?” Shane accused, eyes flashing. He calmed down a little when Neil lightly touched his arm, but not by much.

There was movement out the corner of Zayden’s eye, and, turning, he saw it was Killian, human again. The band’s lead vocalist looked shaken, sick, and Zayden’s heartstrings tugged. He wanted to comfort his friend, but didn’t want to do so with other eyes around.

Killian could feel Zayden’s concerned gaze on him; and he, too, wanted the comfort his bass guitar player provided. Just not right now, not with three pairs of eyes watching him warily. His wolf was calmer now, but Killian could still feel the moonlight prickling his skin. He hated being so different from his friends when nights were like this, when his wolf side was stronger than his human side. It took him a while to meet the wary, cautious gazes of Ryan, Neil, and Shane, but when he did, all that came out was a hoarse, “I’ll talk to you later.”

They left, albeit reluctantly, and then it was just him and Zayden standing there together in the moonlight. Killian’s gaze rested on Zayden, who stepped forward, arms open, and said, “Come here, mate.”

Phosphorescent eyes smiled as a hint of the wolf came through, along with very human desire.

When he finally untangled himself from Zayden’s embrace, Killian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping the smells of the night and his bassist’s familiar scent would help calm down his wolf. He could still feel the moonlight on his skin, and the itch, while it had faded, was still maddening. There were times he loved being a werewolf, but full moon nights—Change Nights—were definitely not one of them.

“You calm enough now?” Zayden asked.

“I think so. C’mon, let’s find the others.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Zayden warned as he fell into step with Killian.

The alpha chuckled dryly. “Or at least three words: I’m a werewolf.”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll go over real well,” the bassist said sarcastically.

“Hey, you’re totally cool with it.” As they walked along, Killian saw Zayden smile a little. He found he kept leaning into his friend, almost as if he needed the contact . . . needed Zayden. Startled by the thought, Killian slowed his pace and let the bassist take the lead to the dressing rooms. Soon after, he realized that was a mistake, since it gave him a full view of Zayden’s leggy figure, the way those lean muscles knotted and rolled to create that loose-hipped stride. Again, Killian could feel his wolf rising, and his tongue swept across his chops before he could stop himself. Why was he thinking about Zayden like this? Yes, the bassist helped calm down his wolf, so there was the possibility Zayden was his anchor—something that kept him human when the moon was full and he was in his wolf form—but did he actually have feelings for Zayden O'Byrne? No, definitely not . . . but he couldn’t deny that some part of him had enjoyed the feel of Zayden’s body nestling against his own.

Stupid wolf, Killian thought irritably. Can’t it decide what it wants? Unless his wolf had already decided . . . but the lead vocalist refused to let his thoughts travel down that road.

He suddenly plowed into a mass of leather and hair as Zayden stopped abruptly. The scent of Zayden’s hairspray filled his nose, and Killian took a step back, gagging. He knew the man liked spray, but did he seriously have to use that much?

“You first,” Zayden said, stepping aside to reveal that they were at the dressing room.

Killian shook his head. “No way.”

“It’s your problem,” Zayden pointed out. “Besides, you’re the alpha, remember?”

Killian grumbled, “Why do I even put up with you?”

Zayden grinned. “Easy. You love me. Maybe it’s my charming personality.”

“It’s your charming something,” Killian muttered. Suddenly irritated with his best friend, he took a step forward—and found himself inside the dressing room looking at the apprehensive faces of their bandmates.

Bloody hell was the first thought that came to mind, and he turned back to face Zayden, who was leaning against the door with that very familiar smirk dancing on his lips. Killian’s eyes flared yellow-green and he curled his upper lip in a snarl, showing off sharp fangs. His bass guitar player gulped and fidgeted, but didn’t move. Killian had to give him credit for that, at least. That didn’t stop him from snarling irritably: “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Yep,” Zayden replied, moving away from the dressing room door so he was closer to the werewolf.

“So,” Neil said at last, tearing Killian’s attention away from the bass player, “what exactly was all that about earlier?” The blond’s eyes were moving from Zayden to Killian. “I’ve never seen a wolf backstage before.”

“And since when are you a wolf whisperer?” Shane asked Zayden. The bushy-haired brunet bass player just looked down at his feet, suddenly very interested in his shoes.

“Since I turn on nights of the full moon,” Killian answered for Zayden, holding Shane’s gaze steadily.

Ryan actually took a step back. “Wait, what?”

“Well, I’m not exactly human,” Killian admitted.

“Then what are you?” Neil asked, eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t you see if you can figure it out?” Zayden grumbled, lifting his head to glare at his bandmates. He moved even closer to Killian, and the werewolf leaned back against his friend’s chest. Zayden’s familiar scent of hairspray, warm leather, and autumn bonfires filled his nose and it took all his control not to turn and sink his fangs into the skin on that delicious-looking throat. Killian thought, What’s wrong with me? I’ve never thought about Zayden like this before—unless it’s just the wolf. Yes, that must be it. But just thinking about the bass guitarist anchored his human self when the full moon’s influence was too much and his wolf threatened to take full control. I really don’t have time to figure this out right now. And suddenly Killian didn’t want the others to know his secret. Everything had been perfectly fine with just Zayden knowing about his lycanthropy, and he’d kicked Patrick out because the rhythm guitarist had threatened to tell in the first place.

So, with his eyes trained on Neil the way they were, there was no way he could miss the lightbulb-going-off moment. Neil paled a little and ducked behind Shane, who looked at him with a puzzled expression, like, WTF?. Neil just met his fellow guitarist’s gaze and said, “I think Killian was the wolf.”

Ryan let out a strained laugh. “You’re joking, right? There’s no way anyone can turn into a wolf. Have you guys been taking something?”

“No,” Neil and Killian said in unison.

Shane was slowly nodding, though. “It makes sense, the way you’ve been acting lately. And from what you said earlier . . .” He turned his attention from Killian to Zayden. “How long have you known?”

Killian, as close as they were physically right now, felt Zayden stiffen before the bassist said quietly, “Five years. I found out by accident.”

“And you never said anything?”

Zayden opened his mouth, but Killian’s warning growl rumbled through the room. “Leave him out of this. If he hadn’t stopped me, the three of you might not be here. I was ready to tear your throats out and howl in victory at your slaughter. Besides, would you have believed either of us?”

Shane averted his gaze, and Killian noticed that neither Neil or Ryan were meeting his eyes now. He muttered, “I guess not. Sorry, mate.”

A corner of Killian’s mouth hitched up in a weak attempt at a smile. “Yeah, well, blame the wolf that bit me. Now, are you all ready to leave? I want to get out of here already.”

His bandmates murmured agreement. Roughly thirty to forty-five minutes later, they were on the bus driving through the crowded streets of Colorado Springs. One of the guys, Killian couldn’t remember who, had suggested that they all go clubbing after dropping everything off at the hotel and they showered (there were no showers backstage). Naturally, the others agreed—all except the singer. He was aware of the full moon creeping higher and higher in the night sky. Once it reached its zenith . . . he’d transform again. His earlier metamorphosis had partly been of his own will and partly because he just let the wolf go. If the moon-madness took over and forced a shift while they were out in the clubs, he wasn’t sure if even Zayden’s calming influence would work. Drugs didn’t help either: they spun his already-heightened senses out of control; besides, the wild animal that lurked beneath his skin loathed anything that did not leave it with utter confidence in itself and its abilities—challenged its authority. As for his position as leader, it was only natural considering he was among weak prey humans and that they looked to him because he was their dominant, their superior, in every way. Maybe that was the wolf talking, but that was okay, because Killian liked the feeling.

The next thing he knew, Zayden was shaking his shoulder, not unroughly. It jarred Killian out of his thoughts, and he looked at Zayden quizzically. Zayden just said, “We’re at the hotel, Killian.”

“’Kay,” he mumbled.

Zayden shifted his weight like he was going to leave, then stopped and looked at Killian more closely. “Hey, are you okay? You look all pale and sweaty.”

“I’m fine,” Killian replied, rising from his seat on the bus.

Zayden frowned. “You’re sure? You don’t have to come with us, you know.”

“I am coming,” Killian growled. And that settled the matter.