CHAPTER 41: TOO LOUD

Chapter 41

Cameron

We walk back to the cabin.

Correction—I walk. She struts.

Me? I’m just trying not to have a full-blown existential crisis in the middle of the goddamn forest. Because... what the fuck happened last night?

Firstly—and I feel like I need to say this slowly for my own brain to process—Ihad the best sex of my entire life.

And then I turned into a whole ass animal.

Not figuratively. Not emotionally. Literally. Fur, claws, teeth—the works. I bit her. Claimed her. Shifted. Full transformation. Then proceeded to run around in the woods like something out of a National Geographic special, with her—who also turned into a very smug white wolf—nipping at my heels and laughing in wolf language, apparently.

I’m not even sure if I should be embarrassed or proud. Probably both.

She hasn’t said much about it. Probably giving me space. Emotional support in the form of silence. Goddess bless her. Because yeah, I’m processing.

I look at her and then look away before she catches me staring like a dazed idiot.

I walk shirtless because she’s wearing my shirt—and humming. Actually humming. Like some satisfied forest nymph who just survived a life-altering storm and came out gleaming. There’s this soft sway in her step, a looseness to her shoulders, a glow to her skin.

Lenora is radiant.

Buzzing.

Completely at peace.

Me?

I guess I still didn’t want to accept the whole you’re an animal, Cameron thing until I literally turned into one.

Does this mean I’m never going back to my life?

Does this mean it’s goodbye to CameronAnderson, successful businessman, urban human with a fancy toothbrush and climate-controlled closet?

Do I even want to say goodbye?

That part hits like a rock to the chest.

I’ve worked my whole damn life for my level of success. Every internship, every overnight hustle, every carefully-worded boardroom pitch—it all led to him. The man in the mirror with the pressed shirts and thirty-year plan.

And now what?

I shifted into a literal black wolf and chased down a rabbit in the woods. I howled. I growled. I bit someone. No—I mated someone. I marked her. And I liked it.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a calculated move.

It was instinct.

And for the first time, instinct didn’t lead to disaster, and I’m afraid.

We reach the cabin, its porch doused in morning light. Dew glistens off the steps. The woods are quiet now—less expectant, more watching.

I step inside and go through the motions—flicking the kettle switch, pulling two mugs down, checking the windows like it matters. But it’s muscle memory. Autopilot.

My mind’s somewhere else entirely. Somewhere tangled up in claws, and blood, and her saying "Yes, yours."

And I don’t know who I am anymore.

Cameron Anderson?

Or Cameron the wolfman?

***

"Heard you turned?" a voice says from the bedroom doorway.

Eamon.

I look up from the bed to find him leaning casually against the frame, arms folded, like he’s just been waiting for me to snap out of whatever daze I’m in.

I also notice it’s dark outside.

How long have I been lying here?

"Yeah... seems so," I say, sitting up. My stomach growls like something feral lives inside it. Eamon just grins.

"Let’s go."

I drag myself to the edge of the bed, feet heavy, limbs stiff. When I stand, I stumble a bit and instinctively reach out to the wall for support—except my hand goes straight through it.

Straight. Through.

Well, what the fuck?

I jerk back and stare. My hand tingles like I brushed against live wire or static lightning. I blink, and stare again at the place where my hand just... sank into solid wood like it was nothing.

"What the hell," I whisper.

"Ah, that," Eamon says, completely unfazed. "Happens with toddlers. I guess you’re a toddler in a way."

Toddlers? They have toddlers phasing through walls around here?

Eamon laughs, clearly reading my face. "Yeah. Pups are hell on furniture. And housing."

He turns and motions for me to follow. "Come on. You need to get out of your head."

I hesitate, still rattled, but follow.

"You’re not fully here yet," he says as we step into the hallway. "That wolf side of you? It’s not just claws and instincts. It’s perception. You’re between layers now. You’ll see things, feel things... smell things that don’t exist in one world but do in another."

And damn it—he’s right.

It’s like someone turned the volume on life up to max.

I hear... everything.

Bird wings flapping far off in the trees. Squirrels chittering to each other. The crunch of insects on bark. A deer’s hooves striking soft earth in the distance. I can even hear heartbeats—not just mine, but multiple, scattered, all moving, pulsing, alive.

I stagger, lightheaded.

It’s too much. Too alive.

My knees hit the wooden floor and I grip my head. "I can’t—Eamon—it’s too loud, I can’t take it—"

Strong hands close around my shoulders.

"Hey. Look at me. Breathe. Tune it out."

"How?"

"Same way we tune out human noise. You filter. Prioritize."

"I can’t prioritize a heartbeat in the grass, Eamon!"

He chuckles. "Then don’t. Tell your brain what matters and what doesn’t. Your wolf is new, but it listens."

I squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth as every sound and smell crashes in like a tsunami. I force myself to exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Filter. Filter. Filter.

What do I need?

Not the bird twenty trees away. Not the ant marching behind the couch. Not the hum of the goddamn refrigerator.

Lenora.

Where is she?

That’s when I find it. Her scent. Her heartbeat. Her everything.

It grounds me.

Like gravity.

Like her voice calling me home even when she’s not here.

My breathing slows. The tidal wave recedes. I feel... not normal. But tethered.

"There you go," Eamon murmurs. "See? Toddler steps."

I open my eyes, and the world doesn’t feel like it’s vibrating any more.

"What the hell am I becoming?"

Eamon doesn’t answer. He just reaches down and pulls me up with one hand.

"You’re not becoming anything," he says simply. "You already are. You’re just waking up to it."

And with that, he claps a hand to my shoulder.

"Now let’s go find something to eat before you gnaw off your own arm. And afterward..." he grins, "maybe I’ll teach you how not to fall through walls."