Chapter 18 · Don't Shift in the Truck

My fingers are burning.

Not the normal kind. The kind where bone wants to break through skin and I can taste metal at the back of my throat. I dig my nails into my thighs, hard, and Cain glances over.

"How long?"

"I don't know." My voice comes out sharp. Wrong. "Just drive."

He does. Highway lights streak past. Every pothole jolts through me and the wolf jolts back, clawing up from somewhere deep in my ribs. I press my forehead against the window. Cold glass. Helps for about three seconds.

"Layla."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

I turn to snap at him and that's when I see my hand. Skin rippling. Nails darker, longer. I shove both hands under my thighs and bite down on the inside of my cheek until I taste copper.

Cain's jaw tightens. He doesn't say anything. Just reaches over and cranks the AC all the way up. Freezing air blasts my face.

"Cold slows it down," he says. Flat. Like he's talking about oil changes.

"Good to know." I can barely get the words out. Everything inside me is fighting to get out and I don't know how to stop it.