Free Six Moon Summer by SM Reine Page B

risky.”
     
    “It can’t be any riskier than hanging out with a werewolf,” Rylie said. He knelt to open his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, something that looked like a can of hairspray, and a bundle of black straps. “What is that?”
     
    “It’s a muzzle,” Seth said.
     
    She understood: the werewolf curse was transmitted by biting. He had promised to stay with her for the night, but Seth wasn’t going to risk the same fate she had.
     
    He didn’t trust her. The knowledge stung. “I don’t want to wear it.”
     
    “It’s only a precaution.”
     
    “I’m not an animal, Seth, no matter what happens to my body. I will not wear that thing.”
     
    “Rylie,” he sighed.
     
    “No.”
     
    “Are you going to be comfortable with your choice if you hurt someone?”
     
    “That’s why you’re here,” she said. “You have a plan.”
     
    “I’m going to do everything I can,” Seth said, “but this is insurance.”
     
    Rylie shook her head. “I said no.”
     
    He hesitated, as though considering whether he could force her to wear the muzzle or not. Rylie glared at him until he put it back in the bag. “Okay. Are you ready to start changing?”
     
    “Not really.”
     
    As though to point out she didn’t have a choice, her body suddenly rocked with an internal blow. Dropping to her knees, Rylie braced her hands against the forest floor. Her head throbbed.
     
    Ready or not, the change was about to happen.
     
    She bent forward until she could rest her forehead on her fists. Her spine arched and her stomach heaved.
     
    “It hurts,” Rylie whimpered.
     
    “I’ve got your back. I promise. I won’t let you bite anybody.”
     
    Seth’s voice was far away. The trees pressed in on her. The moon seemed to swell and grow larger as its silvery rays pounded through her skin.
     
    Footsteps. He was leaving her.
     
    “Seth!” she cried.
     
    Blood spattered against the pine needles. Rylie stared down at the drops as they grew bigger. Her jaw hurt, and she reached up to touch her gums. Her fingers came away slicked with blood. Her canines lengthened and sharpened against her fingertips.
     
    With a snap, the hinge of her jaw broke. Pain lanced down her spine and Rylie threw back her head. Tears sprung to her eyes as the bones around her nose crunched and expanded beneath the skin, spreading into a thousand tiny fissures. Her flesh wasn’t elastic enough. It felt like it was tearing.
     
    Rylie’s mouth filled with blood. She tried to spit it out, but she had no more lips. They were stretched tight across her sharp fangs.
     
    Her fingers raked the earth. From elbow to wrist, from knuckle to fingertip, her bones popped. The nails fell out. The claws that took their place were sharper than knives.
     
    She was afraid. No. She was horrified . Rylie wanted to cry. There was no way she could deal with this—and definitely no way she was going to let Seth see her in such a state.
     
    Unfortunately, Rylie was no longer in charge of her body.
     
    Feet crunched against pine needles. Something was running from her. Running meant prey, which meant food.
     
    The wolf was starving .
     
    She shook the blood off herself and took a long stretch across the ground, feeling her joints pop and muscles relax. Pain wasn’t important to the wolf, and she didn’t care if her face felt like it had just been torn apart.
     
    Sniffing the air, she detected a sour odor. Another wolf. She was in hostile territory. Pressing her nose to the bark of a tree, she breathed in every little bit of the odor. It smelled masculine and domineering, but the hormones were weak. Perhaps he could be challenged. Perhaps this could be her territory.
     
    The smell was on another tree, and another. It led in the same direction as the pounding feet.
     
    Some tiny part of her wanted to pursue on her hind legs—ridiculous. Dropping to all fours, she increased her pace to a trot, following the smell from tree to bush to