Page 126 of Griffin Food

The gag is pulled away enough for a small tube to be inserted into his mouth.

Vander, Darrion, and Fenix gather around, holding him as still as they can while liquid is poured in.

He chokes some. Swallows some.

Violet sobs and wrestles with me.

“They’re helping him,” I promise. They are helping him, I pray.

I feel fucking impotent. I knew something was coming. Sensed it. As did Aldric.

I press Violet’s face tighter against my chest. The dreadful snapping sounds begin again, fresh bruises blooming across his flesh.

His bones are breaking, reforming, and breaking again in a horrifying cycle.

Rafe stills.

The tube is gently removed.

The quiet is deafening.

Violet is trembling uncontrollably in my arms, but I keep my palm against her cheek. I do not want her to see this.

“He’ll need to remain sedated,” Master Lychen says, glancing up at me from where he kneels at Rafe’s side.

Violet tries to break free again, but I don’t let her go.

“You know what this is?” I ask.

Lychen glances from Rafe to Master Pugstone.

“Accelerated, late-stage complex alpha-transitioning,” Master Pugstone says gravely.

Violet sobs and now clings to me like she is trying to crawl under my skin.

“It is rare, but it does occur on occasion. Usually triggered by extreme stress, danger, or mortal threat.” Master Pugstone gestures in our general direction. “The ménage event of last eve, combined with the pride-wide power surge and looming threat, I would presume to be the catalyst in this case.”

I nod. Will he survive is on the tip of my tongue, but there is no scenario where I will allow that he does not. “How do we help him?” I ask instead.

“Sedate him,” Master Lychen says. “As much as we must to manage the pain. Which is going to be considerable.”

The bruises on his skin are already fading.

“We might want to loosen the straps a little between phases.”

Fuck. “And how many phases are there?”

“That,” Master Lychen says, “I cannot presume to know.”

The mood in the room is somber, broken only by Violet’s quiet sobbing. The straps are gently loosened to accommodate his increased size, then tightened again for safety should the convulsions begin.

“Any idea of the timeline?”

“This is a very rare situation,” Master Pugstone says. “There are only three documented cases I know of in my limited study.”

I sense that he is being circumspect with information. That he is not telling me everything, given the woman sobbing in my arms.

Three documented cases who’ve survived?