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"Remember your poem, 'Wolf Change'?" she asked. "This is your poem."
Her heart picked up speed. She flexed her hands as they filled with her hardening pads; stood on tiptoes as her soles roughened. But when she felt the first prickling of hair on her back she had a rush of doubt. What if he didn't love her in her wolf-skin? Was ancestral hate ingrained too deep in them all? She glanced outside to take strength from the high-flying three-quarter moon. No, he would see the beauty.
A jolt of painful ecstasy doubled her over, and her arms wrapped around her belly. Aiden sat upright in bed. "Are you okay? "
She grinned up at him through her tumbling hair. A sharp tooth pricked her lip. "It's all right," she said. "Wait and see." Her voice held a throaty rasp.
A shivering tickle of hair grew over her shoulders and crept down her arms. Her elbows popped.
Aiden looked puzzled.
The change came fast then. Her arms lengthened, her legs shortened, her joints reformed. She uttered a guttural cry of pleasure as her spine extended into tail, the bone quickly wrapping itself with flesh, then fur. She felt the creaking, crunching as her jaw extended, and her eyes now saw the rainbows around each candle flame. She looked to see Aiden's amazement and pleasure.
Aiden's face was white in the flickering candlelight, his eyes large. He drew his limbs close to his body. Awkwardly he shifted away from her, crushing his back against the headboard. His mouth opened into a gash and from it came a hideous whining sound. Naked and wormlike, he cowered on the bed like a nightmare view of an asylum inmate. He stank of fear.
Her thudding heart grew cold in her expanding chest. She tried to reverse the change but her body wouldn't listen. "No," she called to him. "I mean you no harm." But the hand she held out in love grew claws.
He screamed.
"Wait," she said. "I know. I know. I look odd now but the end is gorgeous." But the words came out in a hollow growl from a mouth not meant to speak. Spittle flecked her muzzle with the effort.
As she completed the change, Aiden began to cry, silent tears coursing down his stricken face.
The bile of self-loathing rose in her. How could she be such a fool? Mixed with her disgust at herself was contempt for Aiden's cringing, then guilt because she had caused it. Her heart broke for him because he feared, because he couldn't see the wonder, then raged at him because he made her feel unclean.
I came here for you to comfort me, she howled. I thought you'd understand. But she could tell from his face that all he saw was a savage beast. I am not like them, she cried.
He groped for the table beside the bed, his eyes on her face.
Look, I am lovely, she begged him. She whimpered and wagged her tail like a dog.
He flung a mug at her head.
No! she howled as it smashed on the wall behind her.
He hated her. He loathed her. She brought him pain. She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere. She had to get away.
The quickest way out was the window. She didn't care what lay below. The last thing she remembered was a shattering, and she flew through the air amid glittering shards of glass.
Chapter 19
19
Vivian woke with the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She frowned and groaned, then opened her eyes. She closed them quickly when bright daylight sent a lightning stab of pain through her skull. Her head throbbed in the aftermath.
She was in her room, that was certain. She could tell she was naked and uncovered on her bed, the sheet twisted around her ankles, but she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there.
The air was thick with a stench too jumbled to separate and identify. It hurt to try. Why did her whole body ache? What did she do last night?
Aiden! She remembered the way he'd cringed from her. "Sweet Moon," she moaned.
But what next?
She had leaped from his window, she knew - it was a stupid, crazy thing to do - but the Moon looks after her own and she'd hit the ground running. And that was all she remembered - running, running, running.
Or was it? She thought she saw Rafe's face in there somewhere. Or was that a dream she'd had?
The room was filthy hot. She would love to turn on the air conditioner, but every nerve end cried out to her, "Don't move!" Ignoring the caution, she shifted slightly, and her stomach heaved. Okay, okay, I'll just lie here, she told herself. The heat's not that bad. Maybe if she was lucky she'd fall asleep again and wouldn't have to think or feel.
