Her head clouded over, and her whole body had taken on a lethargy that wasn’t normal. She picked up her head, which felt as though it weighed two tons, before she groaned. They were inside—somewhere, she really had no idea where and wariness made her too uncomfortable to care—and she lay on a bed. Travis squatted down in front of her. “It’ll get easier. The first time I shifted I thought for sure I’d wake up dead.” “That’s…” Her voice sounded scratchy. “Impossible.” “Right. Well, I was eight. There’s no accounting for my thought processes.” She looked away from him; she had so much to say and no idea how to deal with any of it well enough to actually vocalize her thoughts. All she knew was that looking at him made her want to cry. “Please don’t do that.” He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “Don’t look away. Nothing has changed between us, not really and—”
