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Richard made one abrupt movement with his hands and the pressure broke, like a storm finally bursting to life. For a second or two, I thought the heavy, clear liquid that burst around us was rain, but it was hot like blood, and it didn’t fall from the sky. It burst from Stephen’s body. I’d seen dozens of shapeshifters change, but nothing like this. It was as if Stephen’s body blew apart in a rain of hot, thick fluids and small bits of flesh. The beast usually pulls itself from the human body, like a butterfly from a chrysalis, but not this time. Stephen’s body folded over on itself, and his man-wolf shape was just suddenly standing there. It collapsed to its knees, panting, shivering.

I was left standing, not even breathing, covered in the rapidly cooling bits and pieces of Stephen’s body. When I could breathe again, I gasped. “Jesus Christ.”

Stephen’s fur was the color of dark, golden honey. He crouched, shivering at Richard’s feet. Again, the change may hurt while the person is going through it, but once it’s over, they usually stand up and start moving around. Stephen seemed disoriented, almost like he was in pain. What the hell was happening?

He crawled the last few steps to Richard, laying his long, teeth-filled snout against his wolf king’s jogging shoes. He was almost in a fetal position, great, muscular arms wrapped around golden fur, lying at his Ulfric’s feet. It was extreme submissive behavior, and I didn’t know why. Stephen hadn’t done anything wrong.

I looked up at Richard. His white shirt was plastered to his body with the thick fluids. He turned his face to look at me, and the faint light of stars glistened in the wetness on his face. A thick piece of something slid down his cheek as he glared at me. The look on his face was defiant, as if he expected me to be angry with him.

I raised a shaking hand and wiped the worst of the gunk off of my face, flinging it onto the deck where it hit with a wet splat. I looked at the bodyguards. They too were spattered with the thick stuff, but not nearly as messy as Richard and I. They hadn’t been standing as close. They all stared at Richard, stared at him with a mixture of horror and anger and astonishment on their faces, which let me know that something was very, very wrong.

I had to try twice before I could speak, and even then my voice was breathy. “I’ve seen a lot of shapeshifters change into their beasts, but I’ve never seen anything like that. Was it different because you called Stephen’s beast instead of him doing it on his own?”

“No,” Richard said.

I waited for more, but that was all he said, and it looked like all he intended to say. But no just didn’t cover it. I looked at the others. “Okay, someone tell me what just happened here.”

Jamil started to speak, then stopped and looked at Richard. “With my Ulfric’s permission.” The words were polite, but the tone was angry, almost defiant.

Richard looked at him. I couldn’t see his face, but whatever look he gave Jamil, it was something that made the other man flinch. Jamil dropped to one knee in the spreading pool of thick liquid. He bowed his head. “I mean no offense, Ulfric.”

“That’s a lie,” Richard said, and his voice was lower than normal, just a tone or two above a growl.

Jamil darted a glance upward, then bowed his head again. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ulfric. Tell me, and I will say it.”

Richard turned back to me, leaving Jamil kneeling. “I didn’t just call Stephen’s beast, I tore it from his body.”

I glanced down at Stephen, who was still crouched at Richard’s feet. “Why?” I asked.

“It’s usually punishment to do it this way.”

“What did Stephen do?”

“Nothing.” Richard’s voice was harsh, almost as harsh as the look on his face.

“Then why punish him?”

“Because I could.” His chin lifted when he said it, and that arrogance was back.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Richard?”

He laughed, and the sound was so inappropriate that it made me jump. He laughed, but it was too loud, too harsh. “Didn’t this teach you