Page 52 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

No brown fur covered the back of his hand. He turned his hand over. No rough pads on his palm or fingers. He flexed his fingers and made a fist. His fingers obeyed, even though the movement felt strange.

He hadn’t seen this hand in over ten years.

He raised his hand to his face, knowing what he’d find but needing to be sure all the same. Gone was the muzzle and whiskers, though his jaw was a little more pronounced than a human’s. There was stubble on his jaw. He traced up to his ears, and while they were still pointed, they were no longer furry.

He closed his eyes again, trying to summon up the memory of the last time he’d seen himself in still water. He wouldn’t look like a teen anymore.

Trying to remember his parents was harder.

Slowly, he sat up and flicked back the blankets. His feet seemed to be human feet except for the claws at the end of his toes. The hair on his legs was the same brown as his fur… though not as thick.

He stood, and it took a moment for his heels to settle on the ground. Being trapped mid-shift was not natural for a werewolf. The body he was accustomed to had never been truly his. He took a step and rose onto the balls of his feet without thinking and stumbled. His balance was off because his tail was wrong. It was too small, and covered in hair much like his legs… or was it sparse fur?

By the time he crossed the floor to the bathroom, his body had remembered how to walk in this form. They called it human, but it wasn’t. It was humanlike in the way elves and vampires were humanlike.

Or maybe humans were like them but with no magical abilities.

He stepped into the bathroom and stared at the man in the mirror with a confused expression. His hair stuck up all over the place, tufting out above his ears, in serious need of a trim. The points of his ears peeked out of his brown hair. He ran his fingers over one ear as he stepped closer to the mirror.

His eyes were the same gold.

And when he smiled, his teeth were still pointy.

He touched his face again, not sure why he suddenly had it, and why so many werewolves had wanted to go back to this.

Because they remembered.

Those who were younger than him didn’t know what it was like to shift, and those who were older remembered and longed for the old days. He’d been at an awkward age.

And there were plenty of them. Children of the collapse, who only really knew this place as home. A world without magic. He was one of the oldest, and so he should remember Tariko better. It should be more than a collection of vague memories of running through the forest or helping his father with the leatherwork.

He frowned, his eyebrows pulling together. Did this mean he could now shift? Then he realized he didn’t know how to shift. He shook his head. That was a problem for another day.

His first question was: how did this happen? Followed by: was he the only one?

He pulled on a pair of track pants that usually fit fine. The legs were too long and the tail opening too big for the stumpy little thing he had in this form, but he had nothing else to wear. He pulled on a sweatshirt but didn’t bother with shoes, knowing they wouldn’t fit, grabbed his keys, and then padded out of his apartment and went upstairs. He knocked on the door of the apartment where he’d heard people moving around.

One of the sisters who lived there opened the door.

For several heartbeats, they stared at each other. She looked like a stranger, but her scent was familiar.

“It’s not just me.” His voice was unchanged, which was a relief.

She shook her head. “Didn’t you hear? The wild magic settled. We can shift again, but they’re saying if we go too far away, we’ll go back to the half-shifted form. Isn’t it exciting?” She put her hand over her heart. “Magic is back, and we can shift.”

So Reyman had failed, and the magic had settled. That was a good thing, but it felt like more changes, and he wasn’t ready. It felt as though he’d only just got his life together, and it was being twisted out of shape again.

Jake licked his lip. Then did it again to familiarize himself with the shape of his mouth. She was part of Xan’s pack, so there was no point in asking her what had happened to Reyman. “I don’t remember how to shift. I’d only just started shifting before the collapse.”

She grinned all sharp teeth. “You won’t be the only one who needs lessons. They’ll be a whole bunch of children who’ve never shifted.”

“They’ll be a bunch of kids who’ve never seen their face like this.” Anyone born after the collapse had only existed in the half-shifted form. They only knew their parents in that form. There was going to be chaos in some houses.

He should be more excited about this, instead he was low-key panicking. What if he got used to shifting and it disappeared again?

And then there was Adam.

“Are you okay?” She put her hand on his arm.