He cursed as he almost tripped over his own two feet. That was the problem, of course. He hadn’t taken this form in ages, and it felt so clumsy. On four legs, he could have made it down and back up the mountain by now. “Everything good?” Ronan bounded out of the underbrush, dislodging a pair of stones. They tumbled down the mountain, clattering all the way. Kane growled low in his throat. “You want the whole mountain range to know we’re here?” “No one heard.” “I heard.” Turning his anger to something useful, Kane picked up the pace. “Shouldn’t you care more than me? This is your mission.” “Our mission.” Ronan fell into step, though he seemed to be placing his feet more cautiously. “It’s for the good of the pack, remember?” Kane scoffed. “According to who, Della?” “She is the one who told us the prophecy.”
