Page 18 of How I Met My Mate

The moment Hermann says “the human reporter,” something in me snaps.

Not figuratively. Literally.

A violent jolt tears through my spine—like someone hooking a live wire straight into my bones. My vision tunnels, edges going white, and every instinct in me roars to life in one deafening command:

Protect her.

My chair screeches backward as I surge to my feet. Heat floods my limbs, skin rippling as fur bursts through it in a rush. Fabric tears, seams popping. My hands hit the floor first, already claws. My jaw distends, bones reshaping, teeth lengthening into fangs.

There’s shouting—I register it dimly—but all I can think is that they’re talking about her like she’s a problem to solve. A threat to neutralize.

A deep, brutal growl rips from my throat, the kind that vibrates the floorboards. My wolf is fully in control now, hackles raised, lips curled back as I whip my head toward Hermann. Anyone who even suggests putting Alexis in danger is suddenly prey.

“Cole!” my mother snaps.

Her voice slices through the red haze—not gentle, not coaxing, but an Alpha command sharpened by maternal authority. An Alpha’s parents can force them back into human form.

“Shift. Back. Now.”

The order hits like a shockwave.

My muscles seize, my wolf snarls in refusal, but it doesn’t matter—when your parent issues that kind of command, it locks onto your instincts with iron certainty. My body jerks, contorts, shrinks. Bones snap back into place. Fur retracts. My vision blurs and clears again in rapid succession.

Suddenly I’m kneeling on the floor, human, breath ragged, sweat cold on my skin.

My mother stands over me, arms crossed, unamused as only a mother who just forced her grown son out of a rage-shift can be. Her voice is calm, but steel-lined.

“Cole. Clothes. Chair. Now.”

I drag in a shaking breath, shove myself upright, and grab the spare sweats Dax tosses me.

“She won’t betray us,” I say firmly. I mean it. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

ALEXIS

I’m standing by my parked car by the edge of town, crying my eyes out, when my phone rings. It’s my boss Keith, owner of the Blakesville Beacon.

“Alexis, I haven’t heard from you,” he snaps by way of greeting.

“Well, it’s been a day.” I sniffle hard.

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Allergies.” I grab a tissue from my purse and blow my nose, hard.

“Allergic to shifters, huh?” he snickers.

“No. I have no problem with shifters.”

“Is that so? You did when they kidnapped your friend.”

I heave a sigh. “We’ve been over this, Keith. I was wrong, I jumped the gun. It never happened. And as I told you, there was no story there.”

“And that’s why I sent you there. To get a story.”

I keep my tone even. “Well, we agreed that I would keep my eye open, and that if there was nothing worrisome going on here, I’d just write a feature.”

He makes a raspberry noise on the phone. Really. A grown man in his forties, blowing a raspberry at me. “Features are boring. Are you trying to tell me that nothing exciting is happening there?”