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

Chase realizes abruptly that Tripp Cahil is still standing, furious and half-shifted, in their territory.

~*~

Lucas wants to turn to Chase, but Tripp is staring at him, at his Chase, his Alpha, and there’s raw rage in his gaze.

“That wasn’t yours,” Tripp breathes, and he jerks forward without deciding to.

Lucas snarls and crouches protectively in front of Tyler and Chase.

“She was mine,” Tripp shouts, a hint of a roar in his voice.

Lucas laughs. Tripp Cahil is a dick and a bastard, but he is, at the end of the day, a petulant child.

“She was the Reid Alpha,” Lucas snaps, “And a ‘wolf you treated like an omega. You had no claim to her.”

Tripp's gaze narrows and he snarls. “You cannot hold this land. Not with that child as Alpha.”

There’s a rough laugh behind him, and as natural as breathing, Lucas moves, melts to the left of Chase as he pushes to his feet. He’s shaky but sure, and Tyler falls back, respectful, while Chase stands in front of a werewolf Alpha Heir alone.

“You couldn’t take it from me when I wasn’t the Alpha, Tripp,” Chase says, his voice raw but still holding a hint of a snarl. “You can’t take it from me because this land won’t go. The land, the Pack? It’s mine, and I will rip you to pieces if you don’t get the fuck out of my territory.”

The wall of thorns shivers behind Tripp, and the ground ripples as Chase smiles. His tattoos seem to slither along his skin as he says softly, “I don’t want to kill you. We have enough blood on this ground, and your pack has lost enough. Don’t force my hand, dude. Just go.”

For a heartbeat, just one, Lucas thinks he will, that he’ll accept defeat. Then he snarls and shifts, snapping at Chase’s throat, and Tyler howls fury and terror—

And Chase throws up a hand.

The tattoo on his arm of circles and intricate roots flare to life, and Tripp slams into a wall. It burns so bright that Lucas can’t see, but when he does—when the light and thick scent of ozone fades—Tripp is gone.

There’s a fine mist of red on the grass, coating the wall of thorns, but Tripp is gone.

Chase stares at the bloody grass and sighs. He turns to Tyler and says plaintively, “I want to go home.”

~*~

The Pack is there when they return, watching with worried eyes as Tyler guides Chase with an arm around his shoulders.

He wonders if he should step back, let the Alpha approach alone. He wonders if they know yet. There was never much in the way of a Pack bond to an Alpha, and the ones they did have were forged by Chase and the Standing Stones.

So maybe that’s why he doesn’t step aside, because they’ve never been the kind of Pack that stands on ceremony and hierarchy. They’ve never been like any other pack, not since Chase snapped at him in the woods while protectively hovering over his brother.

Ezra is the one who breaks first, while Aurora stays, frozen and wide-eyed as she watches them, while Jessica and Joseph look between the three of them, questions in their eyes.

Ezra though—Ezra whines, high and animalistic in the back of his throat, and breaks, darting across the grass to collide with Chase, wrapping long arms around his waist, pressing his face into Chase's chest, a low, happy rumble in his chest as he rubs against the other man.

Chase huffs a laugh and ruffles Ezra’s hair affectionately. “Ok, puppy. I’m ok.”

Ezra peers at him, eyes bright and golden, and breathes, “Alpha.”

Chase flinches, and his eyes flare red in response. Ezra drops like a puppet with cut strings, his neck stretched long and bare for Chase. It’s a gorgeous display of submission and trust, the most wolflike thing he’s ever seen, and it makes him ache to do the same.

Chase looks a little lost, but he fits sharp little black claws to Ezra’s throat, exerts gentle pressure that pulls him to his feet and tips his head forward, pressing their foreheads together. “My beta,” he murmurs.

~*~

She watches from the corner. They’ve explained everything, and the betas are pressed close to Chase, even Joseph, who usually holds himself just slightly apart from everyone but Jessica.

Chase is curled sleepily in Tyler’s lap and Lucas is sitting at the table, talking in low, urgent tones to Stephen while Aurora’s magic makes her itch with the urge to scream.

This is the Pack she chose, a tiny family that she wanted, and for the first time, she has no idea where she fits in it. Not at Lucas’s side, not now while he plots and radiates a cold rage. Not with Chase, the only human, now rippling with so much power it scares her. Never quite with the puppies, a trio so tightly bound together she doesn’t think she could ever fit there.

She doesn’t know where she belongs and that thought terrifies her.

She finds herself in Chase’s room, the one he so rarely uses now. Now he’s in Tyler’s room, in Tyler’s bed, and this room sits quiet and empty except when he’s deep in research or the Chief falls asleep in the den.

“Aurora?”

Tyler’s voice makes her jerk. She quickly wipes her cheeks and gives him a tremulous smile.

“Aurora,” he sighs, and she hiccups a sob as he sits next to her, pulling her close.

He doesn’t say anything beyond that. He doesn’t call Lucas or Chase or tell her that everything is fine, that nothing’s changed and they’re ok—all the useless platitudes that aren’t true but she expects to hear. He just holds her steady while she sobs.

He holds her together while she shatters apart.

~*~

He waits twelve hours, and even that feels like too long. Chase watches him as he packs a small bag and kisses Aurora goodbye, though Lucas thinks he turns away, busies himself so that he doesn’t listen as Lucas murmurs, “I’ll come home soon.”

Aurora doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with tear-bright eyes and a fierce