Slow Shift by Nazarea Andrews (best summer reads of all time txt) 📕

because they still avoid The Summer We Don’t Talk About.

“Chase, lemme tell you a secret,” John says. “You are always going to be fourteen to me. You’re always going to be five and one and sixteen, and three and ten and a newborn—I see all of it when I look at you, everything I did right and everything I wrong.”

“Dad,” Chase whispers, looking struck.

“That’s what being a parent is. I know you can take care of yourself, I know you trust Tyler and Lucas—and I know you’re right. But Chase, I’m always going to want to protect you.”

Chase stares at him, and then he lunges across the couch, burrowing into his dad’s arms.

John sighs, but doesn’t press for the answers he wants—just holds his boy close, as he shakes silently.

~*~

He picks his way through the forest. He’s done this so many times, he thinks he could find his way with his eyes closed, but there’s something different this time.

From deep in the woods, he hears a howling that makes his head come up, but he doesn’t want to go to him, doesn’t want to find the wolves he runs with on the full moons.

He wanders, aimlessly circling away from the howls that call to him, running deeper into the forest until he realizes—he doesn’t know this place.

He’s never been here.

He picks his way cautiously now, and he hesitates on the edge of a clearing he’s never seen before.

Chase.

Panic, fear, panic, rage—

Chase, no.

He can feel Lucas running, the desperation driving both his wolves—

He stares at the giant stones and his skin crawls as he hunkers in place, half-hidden by the leaves and whimpers, magic crawling across his skin.

Chase, wait!

He does.

He’s too terrified to do anything else.

~*~

He wakes, sweaty and shaking, and he isn’t surprised at all when his phone buzzes.

“Lucas,” he gasps.

“Stay there. It’s ok, pup, just stay there,” Lucas soothes, “Tyler is coming. You’re ok, Chase.”

“What was it?” he demands, and Lucas sighs.

The window slides open and Tyler spills into the room, half shifted as he strides across the floor and tugs Chase into his arms.

He’s careful.

He’s always so fucking careful, his claws never grazing his skin, fangs receding as he buries his face in Chase's neck and inhales.

“He’s here,” Chase breathes.

Lucas hums. “Good. He’ll stay with you, ok?”

“Lucas, what was it?” Chase demands again, forceful this time.

“Tomorrow. I promise I’ll give you answers tomorrow.”

Chase makes a noise of displeasure but Tyler plucks his phone from his hand and disconnects before he can argue.

Now that the dream is fading, he feels a little ridiculous, but Tyler’s got that scowly deep frown that tells Chase he won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“Wanna watch Star Wars?” Chase asks. Tyler toes off his shoes and crawls in Chase's bed, waiting until Chase settles next to him, his laptop propped on his lap, and Tyler tugs him close, pressing familiar and warm against his back as he manhandles Chase to sprawl across his chest and lap, his breath warm against the nape of Chase's neck.

Cradled in his arms, he drifts to sleep sometime before Luke Skywalker reaches Mos Eisley.

~*~

He wakes up alone, to his dad knocking on his door and a note from Tyler.

We’re talking to Harper. Stay safe until I call.  

~*~

“Do you ever dream?”

“I don't want to hear about your sex dreams,” Ben whines.

Brielle smacks him and Chase glares up at the sun. “No. Like... It's a dream that isn't a dream. It's real. Even though you're dreaming.”

“Everyone has realistic dreams,” Brielle says soothingly.

Chase wonders how Drake managed to keep his daughter so ridiculously oblivious.

“Sometimes I do. I dream and it feels real. Like, I wake up and expect my legs to ache from running,” which makes no sense because he always feels different in his dreams.

“Once I dreamt my grandmother was dying. She was driving and went off the road in the mountains. I woke up screaming, terrified my poor mother. I could feel it, the way the car rolled and rolled and shattered around her.”

Chase looks at Aurora and asks, “What happened?”

“She died in her sleep. We found out two days later.”

Chase stares at her while Ben whispers about how creepy it is and Brielle giggles.

He wonders why he feels drenched in shadows when the sun is bright overhead.

~*~

He sits on the couch in Harper’s living room. Tyler is pacing, almost snarling, and Lucas is leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, but Chase can see the way his fingers flex, claws sinking into his skin and retracting.

“Why are we just learning about this?” Lucas asks.

Harper shifts. “The Standing Stones are tied to the Shaman. And without a Reid Pack, without a Shaman—”

“You were Mom’s shaman!” Lucas snarls, lunging at the man, and Chase shoves himself off the couch, placing himself between the furious wolf and the druid. “You were meant to keep this from happening!”

“Lucas,” Chase snaps, “Lucas, stop!”

The wolf snarls again, fangs snapping close enough to his face that Chase knows he should be jerking back, getting the fuck away from the almost feral werewolf, but he presses closer, tugging on Lucas’s hair as he rages.

“You were supposed to keep us safe!”

“Lucas!” Chase shouts, almost screams, and power explodes, the lights bursting in a wash of sparks and fury and he feels himself falling, feels a sharp searing pain, hears a distant roar shaped like his name, and then—

He blacks out.

~*~

When he wakes up, he’s laying on an unfamiliar bed, and there’s only one light on. He can hear shouting in the other room, but he can’t see—

“Lucas,” he snaps, and Harper’s head lifts. “Where’s Lucas?”

“Tyler thought it best if he were restrained.”

Chase snarls and moves to stand, then feels a pain flare up his side, burning deep and hot, and he gasps, falling back.

“I suggest you stay still, Mr. DeWitt.”

“What happened?” he demands.

Harper sighs. “When the Reids died, the pack bonds shattered and the magic in the land did as well. It withered under the broken bonds. I couldn’t hold the land, not by myself. Not without an