She’s on me in two beats, striking low and wide. I barely twist out of the way. Her foot sweeps for my ankle, but I jump back, stumbling slightly.
She doesn’t give me a second to recover.
Another strike. Another dodge.
I keep moving, staying low, light on my feet like Bolton showed me. My heartbeat is wild, but my focus is tighter than it’s ever been. Every breath is a reminder: I’m still standing.
Cassie comes at me hard, clearly expecting me to fold fast. Her punches aren't messy—they’re clean, efficient, professional. She's been trained for this. Raised for it.
I haven't.
But I’ve been fighting other kinds of battles my whole life.
She lands a hit—glancing blow to my ribs that stings like hell—but I use the momentum to turn, duck, and sweep her legs. She hits the ground with a thud, surprised but not out.
She rolls, springs up, and this time her smile is feral.
“Oh,” she says, circling me again. “You’ve got a little bite after all.”
Cassie feints left, then rushes right. I twist to block her, but she pivots, hitting a shoulder-check that sends me to my knees. The world tilts.
The air begins to shimmer.
Beneath my skin, something shifts. Not fully. Not yet.
But it’s there.
The crowd gasps. I feel them watching—not just as spectators, but as witnesses. Not just to violence—but to something bigger.
Cassie lunges again, but this time I’m faster.
I dodge low, then drive my palm into her center mass. She staggers. I follow with a kick that knocks her sideways. She hits the dirt, and I stand over her, chest heaving.
She snarls and launches upward—
And that’s when it happens.
The world breaks.
Not in light, or fire, or a horror movie special effect.
But inside me.
It feels like my soul is stretching, too big for my skin.
Something snaps. Or maybe uncoils.
And my skin doesn't crack open—I do.
I feel it first in my spine—the lengthening. Then in my chest—the hollowing, like my lungs are triple their size.
Bolton's voice shouts something. I can’t hear him.
Cassie hesitates, eyes wide.
Because I’m shifting.
Fur ripples across my arms like smoke. My bones shudder. My vision grays out, then sharpens, like I peeled off a mask I didn’t know I was wearing.
