I gaze down and I see paws that startle me at first. Gasping at the closeness and realize they are mine, where my hands should be, flat on the ground. Large, clawed but strong paws, larger than I thought they would be. I lift one and shake it, almost as if I need to convince myself that I can use and control this limb, it’s truly connected to my body. My legs are solid, with thick silver-grey fur and all the way up my muscular chest, I have a streak of purest snow white that travels as far as I can see. I stare at it, lean back and pull my chin in tight to follow it until I can’t strain any further to see.

I have very little memory of my mother in her true form, but I know this is from her. She was a white and my father a silver yet it’s rare to combine both in such a way. Most wolves are brown or grey … white is a mutation that’s almost unheard of and my mother used to try and hide herself because it brought only stares.

I shake my head, the unfamiliar weight of a different form pulling me from side to side, not fully in control of my limbs or movements just yet but aware it’s so much bigger than my human skull. Staggering on strange legs and fall down flat, splaying out and bumping my undercarriage as I collide with stone. Aware suddenly to the scene around me, coming back into focus and realizing we are still being watched. Sobering fast as my new metabolism pushes the last of the drugs out of my system and cleanses my blood.

The atmosphere is charged, and I’m surrounded by newly changed wolves of all shades of grey and brown, although I’m the only one with white in my coat. Turning as the Shaman’s chants draw my eyes back to him and trip over my own uncoordinated self as I try to right myself and get up. It’s hard to use my hands as front legs and I instinctively rear backwards too far onto my haunches, losing my balance and reeling forward again to correct it, before tumbling face forward to the ground once more and meeting the dust with a lower jaw clunk.

“It gets easier. Try to stay on your feet. All four of them.” The voice above me pulls my head to tilt towards it and I recoil as I realise Colton Santo is standing right by me, watching as I make a spectacle of myself, in falling flat out on new legs. I don’t know if I’m shocked that he spoke to me, or wary that he did.

I’ve never trusted anything about him, or any of his motives, and wonder when he got over here, so close. Avoiding looking directly at him, keeping me eyes averted from his and attempt to get to grips with this weird body and focus on learning to use it. All I can do is whimper back, realizing I have no ability to form words this way and go into my own head link instinctively.

Wolves in the same pack have a connection mentally, so they can communicate without talking, which admittedly is impossible as a wolf. We don’ have the vocal cords for human talking. It’s also possible when close enough to talk to one not from your own pack. If they are willing to hear you.

It feels strange. I attempt to link with him, weirded out by this new, almost natural ability I didn’t have before. Overwhelmed by all of this and not sure if I am still heavily drugged when in this form, or if this surreal new way to experience everything is wolf sense. Things affect us differently as humans, and this disorientation might just be something I have to adjust to.

Yeah well, walk it off. Learn fast. He links me back, a husky familiarity to his voice inside my head that does strange things to my stomach. It’s hardly a polite response and the tone tells me he doesn’t really want to have any sort of communication with me, especially not in a head link.

I’m not one of his pack and I’m not even on the same level as him. It’s disrespectful to try. As if to further demonstrate the point, he walks off towards his father and I flop down to get to grips with everything that I just got hit with. I’m heavy, not sure how to navigate my dog body when I’ve spent my life walking on two legs. I must weigh four times my usual weight for sure, although the size of my paws, suggest maybe even more.

“The turning will not last ... only moments fleeting for your first time. When you come out, you will be awoken, and your path will lead you to your destiny. Pay attention, be alert. You are now on the other side.” The Shaman states it loudly and it echoes around the mountain like a sort of prophetic song. One I have heard so many times but yet this time, it finally means something to me.

I get up on unsure legs once more, slowly, like Bambi on new-born limbs and lift my head as I know I’m meant to. In unison with all around me, we stretch our necks out, lift our noses to the heavens and howl at the moon for the first time in our lives, as one united pack. No matter who we are, where we are from, whatever our bloodline or our past. Long, soulful with meaning. A sound that echoes around us, through us and is joined by the hundreds who watch until we fill the night sky with a somber eerily hum that will reverberate around the mountains and put the fear of god into the wildlife. United in one song that finalises our transformation.

longest yowl comes cascading out of me, until it scratches my throat and makes me breathless, I feel alive. Like I have been

I can leave.

I can run.

by the confines of humans in terms of getting by. Wolves can live anywhere as long as they can hunt and although we are pack animals in mentality, I’ve heard stories of isolated wolves doing fine on their own. That is what I

and flake out on my belly, sighing as my body tingles and itches with a thousand little tremors. Glancing down in time to watch as everything changes back faster than I

beast, the reversal is not painful at all. It’s fast, almost instant and before I can blink or even get to grips with what is happening, I am nakedly human. Smeared

smirking as his eyes devour my nudity and I recoil. Embarrassed, ashamed, at being naked in front of everyone and mad

trying to humiliate me, and I move fast to catch it.

laughed at by someone nearby as they realise how naïve I am about the speed and power we all just inherited. Another change in me I have to get used to. I grab the blanket and try and crawl backwards while pulling it over me and fall onto my back as it’s jerked tight and

he is enjoying making a show of me and I have no choice but to try and pull the blanket from him once more. My

body goosebumping all over in response. I can feel them on me from all over and I want to sink into the ground and disappear. I yank but the blanket begins to tear from the pressure nearer my end and

snarls his way, pushes him from behind and comes into view, shoving him off the blanket and swoops down to pick it up with speed. He walks forward in two confident strides and hands it straight to me, bending lightly as he does so to make sure I get it without any more interference. I know he’s only doing it to save face, exert his dominance in front of his father and save Damon from punishment later. Either way I’m for the first time ever, thankful

what’s on show, afraid to really look at him, but it’s almost impulsive as his hand, still attached to the corner, briefly touches my shoulder in passing because of how speedy I am. Hot searing flash runs through my body alarmingly, igniting something tingly inside of me that I can’t identify.

It’s all it takes.

projections start flowing through my mind at neck breaking speed that fries my brain and I cannot break

his fears, my fears. They become a jumbling mass of zooming information, flooding, invading my mind, and overtaking me as I’m body slammed with

Rooted to the spot, aware only of the darkest chocolate eyes on mine, unable to break frees yet marooned like I suddenly found home and his gaze goes from sworn enemy to lifeline in my darkness. Neither of us can do anything in our paralysed state but let it happen, until the wild ride of transferring all we are, we know, we feel, is done and we are

pouring into my shocked memory banks, I finally snap out and fall backwards in a slump. Released from whatever the hell that was and momentarily dazed. Fully incapable of any kind of movement as I lay on the ground, startled into

someone just sucker punched him in the stomach, and he falls forward to drop his palms on the ground to hold him steady. Eyes wide, skin pale, unusually for his normal tanned hue. He looks like someone just told him the worst news he ever wanted to hear in his life and he’s reeling in the aftermath. Around us is complete and utter silence, like a pin could drop and be heard right now and I have no idea what to

out, and echoes around us like someone

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