66

Most wolves shift before their sixth birthday, but his birthday was right around the corner, and he still hadn’t managed to do it. He’d run away from his cabin when one of his siblings had teased him about it.

My heart had broken for those teary, doe-brown eyes and the clenching of his little fists around his glass of milk. I sat next to him and wrapped an arm around him. While I had no experience being a wolf, I knew plenty about feeling left behind by my peers, so I could relate to Pax’s troubles in that way.

“You need to be brave, little guy,” I’d told him. “Don’t you know that the best things take time?”

He’d shaken his head, wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his shirt.

I’d ruffled his golden blond hair and given him a smile. “I’m sure you’ll shift any day now. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Pax! You just have to wait a little while longer.”

I was relieved that my words seemed to help, and he had finally been ready to return home. That night, he’d given me