I jerked awake. There was no welcome wake-up call, no hazy memory of what had taken place. Instead, the harsh reality of the morning light brought with it my cruel reality. It also brought with it an agonised “Holy shit” from next door.
Rubbing the sleep out my eyes, I didn’t have time to contemplate how many hours I’d managed. It was dawn for sure, but I could have had a full twelve hours and I’d still feel like death. Out of bed, I headed to wash up first. Yeah, Thatch was awake, but he’d have to wait a minute for me to relieve my bladder and throw some cold water on my face. Tasks complete, I stood inside his open doorway.
“How you doing over there?” The distance was deliberate. The change in a shifter could be a crazy one. It wasn’t like having a separate entity like a werewolf had. We didn’t have an independent conscience.
A low moan travelled the distance of the room before he sat up in bed. “I think I’m alive.” Thatch’s grimace looked painful. “Hurts like a mother.”
I nodded. “Care to clue me in on the direction this is going to go?”
Thatch’s gaze narrowed a little before he winced as he pressed his hand to his neck. “What?”
I edged into the room and settled on the soft winged-back chair sitting in the corner. It was comfy as hell. Too long with my butt in this seat and I could easily fall asleep, especially in my present state of mind. “Shifting 101: The Change, you studied that, right? It was a basic part of training.”
Thatch sighed, his shoulders moving with the release of breath. “Yeah,” he said with a wince. “Pain, anger, or something, right?”
I smirked, but quickly pulled it back, sure he wouldn’t appreciate me taking pleasure in the moment. “Or something.” It was then my eyes landed on his smooth, bare chest. I cast a glance around the room and found his shirt on the ground. It appeared to be torn. Looked like the strength had kicked in. Perhaps the jump in body temperature too. He wasn’t raging either, a relief since he was a big guy. When human, there was little doubt I could have taken him. Now, not so much.
The thought was appealing. Completely inappropriate for a whole list of reasons, but with the way his dark skin almost gleamed in the dawn’s light, Thatch’s body was difficult to ignore.
“What do you think you need?” I pressed on, not a hundred percent sure of protocol. This was the first time I’d had to guide someone through the change. The process wasn’t as common as human scaremongers made it out to be.
“Painkill—”
I shook my head before he had the chance to finish. “Nope. They won’t work. Well, nothing you have here anyway.” Bottom lip between my teeth, I contemplated the best course of action. He was in pain, that was certain. I ignored the pissy voice inside my head complaining that it wasn’t sex he was after. Horny shifters in the change could be relentless though, or so the stories went. The last thing I needed was to have my dick broken. Plus, I was too damn tired.
“Okay.” I nodded as an idea formed. Wide eyes met mine, almost vulnerable looking. I doubted many had seen such a look from this man before. “We need to encourage the change. Get it over with. A bit like ripping the Band-Aid off.”
“That’s your solution?” He slammed his eyes shut and pressed his hands to his head.
“The sooner we can get rid of the pain, the sooner you can breathe, and the sooner you’ll be open to Hazel’s”—a zip of agony shot through me—“memories.” That last point caught his attention. I hadn’t held back my pain. I couldn’t.
A short nod followed my words, along with a grimace as he pulled himself off the bed to stand.
“On all fours. It’ll be easier.” I remembered when it was my first time, fully aware a born shifter didn’t have it half as bad.
“How—” The sound of his back teeth grinding together made me wince.
“Eyes on me and listen to my voice, okay?”
He blinked his understanding.
“There’s not a wolf inside you ready to pounce free, okay? So there’s no freaking out, no worrying you’ll lose yourself. You are the shifter. The shifter is you. But it’s more primal, works with different senses, different… emotions.” It was the best word I could think of to describe how it worked being a shifter. “To find the magic, you don’t have to look hard. It’s in your veins, in your being. All it’s waiting for is for you to instruct it. You have to tell yourself you want to be your other self, your wolf self.”
I tugged the sweatpants down so I stood before him naked. Clothes shredded during a shift, and while he still wore some, he was in too much pain for us to worry about them. Plus, his anxiety rolled off him in waves. It was deep and layered with uncertainty.
“Have you seen a shift before?” His nod was slight but enough for me to carry on. “Good,” I continued. “So you know there’s no blood or gore, but there is reshaping. It can be uncomfortable and it can be crazy fast.” Two seconds was my record, and I was cocky about the fact that I was definitely above average.
“But your first time….” I frowned. “Sorry, Thatch, but it’s going to hurt so much you’re going to think you’re dying.” Shit, should I have said that? Perhaps this guidance gig was not my strength. I just needed to get this over with. “Okay. We good?” I
