Hearing his name, Ink ducked into the room, quiet and unobtrusive. “There’s no evidence that Maddy ever Shifted in the woods,” he said, by way of greeting. “If she was living there, she was living there as a human.”
He paused and took in the sights and smells in this room. To his nose, the astringent smell of bleach would have washed away some of the blood scent, but not all of it.
Fresh off his own Shift, Ink was able to press down against his inner wolf, but I could feel the animal response bubbling beneath the surface of his mind. “Do you think she Shifted in here?” he asked, his voice throaty and low.
I turned the question right back around at him. “Do you think she did?”
Ink was silent, and for several seconds, none of us said a word. He breathed in and out. I watched the way his
