by May Sage
But they were at the bottom of the list of threats because the humans didn’t know that some amongst them were born with a sort of venom carrying their gene; a venom that could turn humans into shifters. Children were tested after their first shift - which generally meant after puberty - to check if they had it. They’d had zero reason to think Zack might have been a Turner.
“You wanna tell me why all of you are looking at me like I’m on my death bed? It’s just a little scratch,” Clari said, rolling her eyes, pulling the child back into her arms and rocking him.
“Hm.”
“Errr-”
“Erumph.”
No one wanted to break the news to her, it seemed, least of all the Alphas, who were probably feeling guilty for letting her close to Zack before doing their duty.
Well, it needed to be said.
“There’s a zero point zero, zero, zero one percent chance that his bite might be venomous.”
Clari stilled.
“So, what, I’m going to die if it is? There’s an antidote, right?”
He shook his head.
“No, it’s not lethal, per se.” A half truth. “And no, there’s no antidote.”
She frowned, clueless.
In for a penny…
“If he’s venomous, you’ll change into one of us. You’ll become a shifter.”
He didn’t think he’d ever felt as helpless as he did now, staring at the female. No, not female; woman. He wouldn’t think of her as a shifter. Not yet. Not ever, if he could help it.
He’d said the affliction wasn’t lethal. He’d lied. If she did turn, she would be killed. Perhaps not by the change itself - although not many were strong enough to survive it, according to what he knew about it - but she’d be hunted and killed by the Shifter Council. That was what they did to the children who could turn humans, that was what they did to the witnesses, and the proofs. Their secrets kept the bulk of their race safe from humanity’s paranoia, and they’d do anything to ensure it was never revealed.
They needed to tell her, although she’d freak out. If she didn’t know, she might do something stupid - like talk about it on social media. Daunte opened his mouth, and closed it.
Not yet. They would have to tell her soon - before she left the pride house - but he couldn’t tell her yet.
“When will I know?” she asked in a whisper.
It was impossible to tell how she took the news by just looking at her. Clari’s expression hadn’t changed: she’d blanked out any feelings from her face.
“Within three to five days. We might be able to see some signs earlier.”
Not even a week. In less than a week, they’d know.
Chapter 8
Plan of Action
You’re kidding me.”
They were joking, right? That wasn’t possible. Humans were humans, and that was that. They could be turned into vampires, they could even learn to use magic if they had a drop of witch blood… but they couldn’t be turned into a shifter.
Pop culture had shown plenty of humans changed after a werewolf bite, but when they’d come out of the shadows thirty years ago, shifters had laughed at it. Since, they had seen plenty of proof that it was nothing but a myth, when stupid humans who’d provoked shifters into a fight had ended up with bite marks that hadn’t changed anything about them.
“Do you really think any of us would joke about that?” Ace asked softly.
She got up from the sofa with some difficulty, and walked to her; Clari moved to reluctantly give Zack back, but she shook her head.
“It’s not like a second bite would make any difference. He either is a Turner, or he isn’t. Let me just have a look.” Her hand touched Clari’s neck, and retreated just as quickly. “It’s not very deep, but he broke the skin.”
Most members of the pride cursed at that.
“A Turner?” Clari repeated the unfamiliar term, trying to wrap her head around what was happening.
The tension was palpable and she could almost feel everyone exchanging glances, murmuring around her. Shit. Okay, so, maybe they weren’t kidding. Maybe it was possible. That meant she needed to ask questions - a fair bunch of them. Like, what sort of odds were they talking about? What would happen to her if she did, in fact, turn, would she be accepted in their pride? Clari knew just how selective they were - they’d spent the last few months reviewing applications and didn’t seem any closer to including even one new member. From what she’d learned about it from Ace, she knew she didn’t want to be a loner; Ace had survived it, but Clari had no clue how to do the shifter thing.
Suddenly, she froze, one resounding question muting everything else. She’d never heard of a human turned by a shifter. Ever. That meant…
“That’s a secret, right? The fact that you can turn us. You keep it secret.”
Rye was the one who answered.
“Yes. The Shifter Council has unanimously opted to keep the matter under wraps. One of the only things every race has agreed on.”
She bit her lip, pretty certain they hadn’t just done a pinky swear.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
It came out as something close to a whisper, and she hated it. She didn’t think she’d ever sounded as weak, or as frightened.
Rye and Ace looked at her with pity, and she could guess what the silence meant.
“Oh, god. I’m going to die. You’re going to have to kill me.”
All of a sudden, she remembered a funny thing; almost ten years back, she and her cousin had been on vacation at the beach. They’d met a few shifters, and she could hear Lana’s voice saying, “One day you’ll get yourself in trouble if you don’t stop mingling with their kind, Clarissa.”
Funny how she’d felt like her cousin was just a silly privileged girl, at the time. Someone who never had to work for acceptance, and refused to give the benefit of the doubt to anyone who wasn’t exactly like her.
She could almost hear Lana laughing at her now.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” a deep voice interrupted her inner pity party, and, when she lifted her eyes, Daunte was just in front of her, invading her personal space. “None of us - not one of us - will lay a hand on you. You got it?”
His amber eyes had changed to a gold shade, as Ace’s did when she was pissed. She’d never seen his shift that way though. Clari gulped and bobbed her head.
“And you’re not the only one the law would condemn,” he added, pointing towards the baby now sleeping in her arms.
Her eyes bulged. They’d hurt a kid? No way! They couldn’t.
“Hopefully, nothing will come of it. Turners are extremely rare.”
“But what if he is one? What then?” she insisted. She couldn’t just let it go, even if the probability was minimal. She needed to know, if only to prepare herself.
Rye was the one who replied.
“If he is one, and you turn, your body and mind will suddenly be forced to become something else. You’ll change in every way. You may hate it. You may love it. You won’t understand it. But we’ll be here to guide you. If you shift, you’ll be a Wyvern.”
There were nods of assent all around.
She didn’t know just how tense she had been until her shoulders sagged in relief. She wasn’t going to be expected to deal with all that alone. Of course not. She felt a little silly for even thinking of it.
“But, the law…”
“No one will think to test Zack for years. As long as we’re careful - which means never letting him out of sight, never letting him close to a human being - they’ll never know what happened. When the council sends someone to see him… well, we know a few witches. I’m sure we’ll find a workaround.”
That sounded good, right?
“As for you- that could get complicated. Your friends, family- everyone will need to carry on thinking that you’re what you’ve always been until now. That would take a lot of self-control on your part. Never showing your true nature. But with training, there’s
no reason why you won’t manage.”
Clari had smiled. Okay, that didn’t sound all that bad, did it? In fact, if she was entirely honest, if only to herself, she didn’t mind the idea of shifting.
Not at all.
“In the meantime, you’re going to have to stay here, under observation for the rest of the week. The first shift is always the worst. We can close the bakery; with Zack’s birth, no one will question it.”
Chapter 9
Catching a Break
It took a lot to get a shifter drunk, but Daunte was doing his best to try, pouring one brandy after the next. He needed it, if only for a night. Maybe then, he’d manage to stop thinking. About her.
There was a very, very good chance that nothing had changed. She was just a normal, human girl, and she would remain so. But telling himself that, repeating it, almost chanting it, didn’t change what he and his cat wanted.
Until then, they’d both been reasonable. They wanted her, but it was just a passing fancy he could get over. Relationships between humans and shifters could work, but not when the male was as dominant as he was. He needed a female strong enough to push back, or a submissive who understood the rules enough to fold under his demands; humans didn’t get what their animal counterparts demanded; they could push, and push, ignoring the dominance, and end up getting hurt in the process. Daunte didn’t think he was able to ever lay a hand on a woman, but he wasn’t about to question facts that had defined his race for hundreds of years. Their animals could burst to the surface in anger when provoked.
Now that she’d been bitten, there was a possibility, a minuscule, quasi-nonexistent possibility, that she might have been turned and he entertained the idea. Clari in his arms. Clari’s hand in his. Clari smiling up at him. Clari panting underneath him.
So, yeah. He fully intended to get drunk until it passed.
He genuinely didn’t think anything could improve his sour mood until the phone in his pocket beeped. Pulling it, he frowned at the unknown number, until he read the text.
Nice day in Mexico.
That managed to get a smile out of him. Emily. It had to be Emily, telling him she was safe - or at least, alive. If she was smart, and he was pretty sure she was, she wasn’t anywhere near Mexico. But she was well enough to send him a message, and that was what mattered. He hadn’t abandoned her to her death.
“Wow. Daunte Cross smiling. I didn’t think that was possible.”
If he hadn’t imbibed a dozen brandies, he would have heard and smelled her before she could get too close.
Daunte put the phone back in his pocket, and turned to face Clari.
Fucking hell!
“What are you wearing?”
She looked down at herself, before rolling her eyes.
“They’re called PJs, Cross. Can’t be the first set you’ve seen.”
It wasn’t. But Clari generally wore jeans and blouses, or pretty, conservative dresses that didn’t show too much skin, reaching one inch below the knee. Her PJs were micro-mini stripped shorts, and a tight tank top that she wore without a damn bra.
Fuck.
“I had to borrow it from Ola,” she admitted. “We’ll stop at home tomorrow, after my aunt and uncle go to work.”
He smirked; sure, the outfit wasn’t as revealing as what most of the pride females wore, but it still wasn’t her, and he’d been able to tell.
“You totally wear long pants. With giraffes on them.”
“Pigs, I’ll have you know,” she replied good humouredly.
He hadn’t spoken to her until the previous week, yet he knew her. How fucking weird was that?
“You live with your aunt and uncle?” he pried.
“Yep. My mother is a career woman. She got her big sister to raise me until I was in my teens; by then, I figured out I preferred my aunt’s home. She’s awesome - and her husband rocks. You’ve met them, I’m sure. He’s the mayor.”
That rang a bell.
“The guy who got this place built for his daughter? But then she went and married someone in the city, I think.”
“Yes, Lana. She was never going to stay, but they did their best to make Lakesides appealing to her.”
She said it without even a little bit of bitterness, but he read between the lines. Lana, the golden daughter they wanted, while she was just the niece, the guest. That explained a lot. He’d seen that she hadn’t seemed to have much of a life outside of running the bakery, and she hadn’t seemed to want to go home right away. Daunte had cursed her for coming to his home every day, taunting him; now he felt like an ass.
“You came home when she wouldn’t. You moved back so they aren’t alone.”
She bit her lower lip and looked away, uncomfortable.
“Maybe. Is there anything to drink? Tea, coffee?”
“Caffeine? It’s two in the morning.”
She shrugged, making her breasts rise and fall in a way that was all too distracting.
“Can’t sleep. I do have the whole you may very well cease to be human in a couple of days thing hanging over my head, you know.”
The girl had a point. He lifted his glass.
“Brandy?”
Chapter 10
Alphas
The circular room with animals painted on the light-yellow walls, was entirely littered by fluffy toys, and piles of presents they hadn’t gotten around to opening yet. All their allies had sent gifts to little Zack. Their baby.
Five years ago, if someone had told him it was possible to feel so entirely whole and content, Rygan Wayland wouldn’t have believed a word of it. His mate was rocking their treasure in her arms, absentmindedly humming a timeless lullaby. The picture of happiness.
Yet, he’d never been as wary, either, and he could see a shadow underneath Aisling’s eyes that said she felt exactly the same. She’d blocked him through their bond; in the past, she’d only done it when she’d been furious - or hiding a birthday present from him. Now…
She was scared. Try as she might, she could never quite hide anything from him. They were two parts of the same soul.
“We have no reason to freak out yet,” he voiced. “Turners are extremely rare.”
His words felt empty, even to his own ears. Turners were rare because they came from old families descended directly from the very first shifters - witches had rendered the following generations unable to affect human beings.
But he was a Wayland; his family tree could be traced right back to the top, hence why he turned into so bestial an animal. And she? She was the very definition of a first generation of shifter. Part beast. He’d always been proud of everything she was, but there was no denying that it made their odds look grim.
“I feel danger coming, Rye. I can almost taste it.”
He would have loved to say that he didn’t; but that would have been a lie.
“Hsu would…”
“Hsu is a child. We shouldn’t rely so heavily on her. For one, that could make us complacent. We…”
She stopped talking as a discreet knock interrupted them.
Opening the door, Rye tried to smile as best he could.
“Hey, little one. We were just talking about you.”
The child had been crying. That much was obvious, although she’d done her best to hide it, drying her tears and lifting her chin. Her eyes were still red and puffy.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed.
Those words seemed to undo her hard work; she lost her composure and started bawling her eyes out again.
“Hey, hey, now,” he said, effortlessly lifting her from the ground like she was a toddler, too.
At ten years old, the girl rarely accepted that sort of comfort, but she buried her arms in his neck and cried harder.
“What is it, Hsu?” Ace asked, suddenly by their side.
She’d put Zack in his bed; from the corner of his eye, Rye could see the little monster immediately shifting and tearing through the curtains in an
attempt to climb out. “You know you can tell us anything.”
“I did something - something really bad.”
“Right. Do I need to get a shovel to hide the body?”
Hsu didn’t laugh, but the joke worked nonetheless; a reminder that they had each other’s back, no matter what.
“I… I saw something last week, and I didn’t tell. I tried, and tried to stop seeing it, so I wouldn’t have to lie.”
Rye caught Ace’s eyes flickering to his for an instant, but they went back on the child.
“Well, now, that doesn’t sound too bad, does it? You know you don’t need to share all your visions, Hsu. No Seer is supposed to. If you constantly meddle with the future, you’re just going to get tired, and anxious, and you’ll feel guilty when you miss something…”
Ace stopped her tirade, catching on at the same time as Rye.
“You saw this. You saw Zack biting Clari.”
A head of dark curls bobbed against his chest. Oh boy.
“And you saw Clari turn,” Rye concluded softly.
It took a minute, but she nodded again.
Knowing she could feel the beat of his heart underneath her, Rye did his best to control it and stay calm, wishing very hard that he was alone in the room, so he could yell every variation of fuck that came to mind, and throw something.
“Sweet pea,” Ace said softly, still caressing her head, although her amber eyes shone bright gold, “you should have told us, because Clarissa might be in trouble now. But you know that.”
Good, she’d managed to say it without yelling. Sometimes, he loved being able to share his responsibilities.
“I know, but Clari was happy in my vision. We all were. Everyone, even Zack was all grown up, and we were dancing under a big gazebo, before we all shifted. Niamh was there, dressed like a princess, all in gold. It was a good vision.”
That didn’t sound all that bad…
“But?” Ace asked, interrupting him just as he was about to tell Hsu that it didn’t matter.
