Stripping in the garden shed, he set his clothes aside and shifted. Agony and ecstasy, piercing pleasure spliced with pain, his wolf skin forming out of the millions of particles of light that had once been his human form. Then he was shaking that skin into place, the white-streaked light brown of his fur settling. His packmates teased him that his fur was as pretty in wolf form as his hair was in his human form. A few of them had even threatened to comb and braid him. He knew the teases, had grown up with them, and he ragged his friends as wickedly in turn. Drew, one of the worst, had cheerfully taken Felix’s teasing during the time when the other man had been flamboyantly and—at first—unsuccessfully courting Indigo. As Felix stepped out into the cool night air, he considered what Drew would’ve done if Desiree had approached him while he’d been single. Not talked about plants, that was for sure. Felix’s wolf growled, and the human part of him winced at the harsh reminder.
