Technically, what Stacia was about to do was illegal. There were thirteen laws, and "don't tell humans about us" was the ninth. It would be a stain on her honor, it could easily knock her back down in rank. But the thing was, she wasn't at home. She'd slipped into a universe so unlike her own that human minds weren't clouded by the Delirium at the sight of her war form. And Jorgmund knew she could shift, at least to Crinos. Which meant that her enemy knew, and until she could solve that problem, her allies needed to know at least a little bit.

Not a lot. Not details. But enough.

It was going to be weird. She wasn't going to let it show on her face, but it was going to be weird.

"I'm a werewolf," she told Ronan. Just a werewolf, not a Garou. She curled her hands into claws in his direction. "Rawr."