Page 2 of Scout’s Honor

“Yeah,” Flint snarled, looking every bit a bear, even as a man.

Dallas rubbed his hands together, thinking how nice it would be to shift and not have his bare ass hanging out. Now this was magic he could get excited about—then he remembered the rest of what Flint had said. “—Wait.” He pointed at his injured leg. “Are you saying if Goldilocks—if Goldie does the magic spell on me, my jaguar will have a prosthesis?”

Flint snarled then nodded. “Possibly.”

Thick excitement filled Dallas. He swallowed the emotion as best he could, unable to handle any disappointment when it came to his leg. He’d get excited when—if—it happened.

“I’m in,” Dallas said. “What do I gotta do?”

“I’ll tell her,” Flint said. He strolled away.

On the field, Dakota attacked a new combat dummy with choppy slashes. Dallas could tell she was upset even from how far away he was. He debated heading over to talk to her, but Aven reached her quickly and spoke softly to her. She relaxed into him, nodding along, so Dallas turned his attention to Flint, who stepped in close to Goldilocks. She went straight into his arms, smiling. He kissed her softly, then spoke into her ear, while Dallas had one idea playing through his mind on repeat.

He was going to be able to walk in his jaguar form again.

2—Thorn in The Cause’s Side

Less than an hour later, Dallas stood in a quiet corner of the workout area inside the BBOC, waiting on the magic spell that might give him a prosthesis in his animal form.

Goldilocks was inside a nearby office, preparing. Flint stood ten feet away, one big boot up on a weight bench, his dark gaze on Dallas. Across the room, several shifters lifted weights. The rest of the witches and their shifters were outside, cooking up a scheme to rub Dakota against a vampire, because she’d learned how to do magic, so apparently she was a fully savage witch now, and all that was left was for her to start killing vampires. She’d figured out her approach had to be different than that of the other witches because they were ‘Breath Coven’ and she was ‘Belief Coven’, and she’d gotten good at a blue, explosive magic that Dallas sincerely hoped would protect her from vampires… if they ran into any. He’d insisted he go along, even if he wasn’t an official part of the organization. He wanted to keep his little sister safe.

The blonde witch came out of the office and moved close to Dallas. She glowed a brighter green than she had when they’d come inside a few minutes ago, looking infused with power… or intent. She stopped five feet in front of him, first looking at her mate, Flint. He smiled, and she relaxed.

She faced Dallas and raised her hands, saying breathy words he couldn’t understand, her hands plucking at the air. Green lights coalesced on each spot she plucked, leaving shimmering balls of whirling green light. The balls of light formed a man shape, which eventually stood there, strong and tall, mirroring Dallas. Goldilocks spent extra time on the glowing man’s lower right leg, packing the green glowing balls tightly. Finally, she stepped aside.

“Walk into it,” she said. “I don’t think it’ll hurt.”

“I can handle pain,” Dallas growled. He pushed off the wall, first finding balance on his prosthesis, then stepping into the glowing green man. The light suffused his skin and clothes, feeling like soap bubbles.

In a moment, it was over. The green light faded. Goldilocks, Flint, and even the shifters from across the open room were staring at him.

“Go ahead and shift,” Goldilocks said. “Let's see.”

Dallas shifted into his animal, curiosity pawing at him. He pitched forward, fur sprouting, body changing, and his clothes disappeared except for his prosthesis. He’d had his phone and wallet in his pockets, and they appeared to have gone with his clothes. The curved blade of his prosthesis had magically shortened and reshaped itself like a jaguar’s angled hock, ending in a synthetic paw pad with sharp, shiny claws.

Dallas stood there as a sinewy black jaguar, head hanging low to see underneath him, barely able to believe it. He snarled lightly, then chuffed out his pleasure at standing solidly on four legs. He lifted the leg with the prosthesis, then tapped it against the floor, testing the stability. As a man, the prosthesis had been a pin lock connection with a silicone sleeve, but the sleeve had morphed into some other material that gripped his animal leg better. He tested it, slinking through an open door, down the hallway, picking up speed. At the end, he leapt and hit the wall, flipping in absolute joy, landing on all four feet with a burst of fresh pain up his thigh, but the fake limb held.

Gratified, amazed, and feeling good for the first time in eighteen motherfucking months, he skidded to a stop and roared a guttural, sawing roar that bounced off the walls. At the end of the hallway, Goldilocks, who’d been watching, ran out of view.

Dallas clamped down on his animal in his mind and shifted, pushing off the floor with his front paws to stand upright as a man. His clothes magically appeared, while his prosthesis lengthened and the silicone sleeve reappeared, then slid to accommodate his human leg. His shirt was untucked, but his wallet and phone were in his pockets—the magic spell worked better than he ever could have hoped for. He strode the rest of the way down the hallway feeling like a million fucking bucks, tucking his shirt in.

He reached the end and found the witch—the switch—in her mate’s arms. Flint held her close, staring at Dallas with daggers in his eyes.

Dallas grinned. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Welcome,” Goldie said softly.

Flint squinted and snarled at him, lifting his lip like a bear.

Several horns honked outside the building. The door opened and Dakota stuck her head in.

“Guys, we have to go—now! Dallas, you're with me.” She waved him over then ran out.

Dallas took off after his sister.

A few minutes later, Dallas was in the back seat of Dakota’s muscle car speeding down a dark highway, but his mind was in that hallway as a jaguar. For the first time in over a year, he felt good—almost happy. He could run as an animal again, which was the closest thing to freedom he’d ever found. He couldn’t wait to get out in the open air on an open field and just… go.

Up front, Dakota drove and Aven rode shotgun. They didn’t talk much but they touched constantly and looked at each other often. Dallas had been wrong when he’d thought they were going to rub Dakota against a vampire. They were actually going to introduce her to some mystery shifter named Thorn. Aven directed Dakota which exit to take and then which street to turn down. She drove on until he pointed.