Shifter Bound Page 9

  Sorrow and pity replaced the anger on his face. ‘Don’t feel sorry for me. I had Cain. He always loved me. Protected me.’ Her voice choked on the last because it wasn’t true anymore. She turned her mind away from that thought, the pain too much to bear in this moment when she was supposed to be starting anew. ‘Tell me more about the change.’

  He did, telling her about the shifters he’d worked with in Europe. Many of them were farmers and vintners, using their natural affinity for nature in toiling the land, growing things, just like the Were did. He told her of how he saw one turn into a hawk so he could oversee the fields that were in his care, the golden glow of change shifting over him like folding water. ‘I saw that same farmer turn into a dog who ran after wayward sheep and brought them back home. He was laughing as he changed back into his human form and dared me to race him.’ He smiled, as if savouring a wonderful memory. A slash of jealousy shot through her.

  ‘You make it sound so simple.’ Her voice was choked. ‘But it’s never been like that for me. Changing into Bluebelle and back was always painful. And I could never change successfully into anything else.’

  ‘That’s probably because you were led to believe it was wrong. Your nature was quashed. You say your coven didn’t abuse you, but they did, by not allowing you to be the person you are supposed to be.’

  ‘They were afraid.’

  ‘And their fear poisoned your joy. Don’t let them have that control over you anymore, Eloise. The change is pain, but it is also wonder and delight and freedom. Once you allow yourself to feel that, you’ll be able to change into anything you want.’

  ‘You sound so certain.’

  ‘I am.’

  Her breath was tight in her chest as she watched him, watched his expression, his absolute certainty. Adam’s words flittered through her mind and she couldn’t help voicing them. ‘What if this is wrong? What if this is part of Morrigan’s plans and it’s what sets me off?’

  ‘What if the moon crashes into the earth? What if the earth quakes and swallows us whole?’

  She snorted. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’

  ‘So are you. Stop finding excuses because you’re afraid.’

  ‘They’re not excuses. I heard Adam express his doubts to Shelley. She didn’t think they were so silly.’

  ‘Adam doesn’t know you.’

  ‘And you do?’

  ‘Yes. And I trust this is the right thing. I trust you.’

  ‘Why? Why do you trust me?’

  His amber gaze held hers. ‘Because you saved us last year even though it nearly cost you your life. You left everything behind, gave up everything you knew, to do the right thing. Besides, I watched you sleeping for months. There is no artifice in a sleeping person—you can see their truth reflected on their face. And what I saw told me that you are a good person.’

  ‘How? How do you know?’

  ‘Because your expression when you were asleep is the same as now. Except now you are full of curiosity.’ He smiled. ‘I know your face and your expressions almost as well as I know my own. You are uncomfortable with artifice and you are one of the worst liars I have ever come across. Even last year when you were Bluebelle, I could tell you were uncomfortable with what you were doing. It was a curious thing to feel from a cat.’

  She let out a long slow breath. Oh Goddess! He did know her. Knew her better than anyone else ever had. Even Cain. And she felt his trust to her core.

  He was her friend. And he trusted her.

  She couldn’t stop herself reaching for that friendship and trust. She needed them like she needed air to breathe, water to drink, like she needed the warmth of the sun on her face. She took in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I trust you, too.’

  ‘Good.’ His smile was so bright, she didn’t need the sun. ‘Now, let’s continue. We’ll start with the basics. You need to learn that the shift doesn’t have to be painful. That it is about wonder and love. I want you to close your eyes and think of something joyful. Concentrate on it until the joy of that fills you to your core.’

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t have many joyful things to think about, and every single one of them seemed to centre on Iain. Picking the most recent one, she filled herself up with how it had felt when he’d told her he’d made that chair for her.

  ‘Good.’ His voice weaved its way to her through the flood of golden warmth of emotion thinking about his gift gave her. ‘Now, keep that feeling inside you and shift into your cat.’

  She frowned. She couldn’t believe that shifting wouldn’t hurt and she didn’t want to let go of this wonderful feeling, but she had said she trusted him. Thinking of her cat form—a form she’d moulded after a stray her mother had kept and lavished attention on when she was little—she changed.

  As the tingling prickle of pain began to shoot through her, she struggled to keep hold of the feeling of joy inside her. ‘It hurts.’

  ‘Don’t change then. Let it go and start again.’

  She did as he suggested, gave herself a little shake and started the process again. The pain gripped her faster this time. She gritted her teeth, concentrating completely on the memory of joy when he’d given her the chair, but she just couldn’t seem to fold the joy around her. ‘It’s no good. I can’t do it. Maybe it’s always meant to be painful for me.’

  ‘No. I know that’s not true. Try again.’

  She glowered at him. ‘What if I don’t want to? I’m tired.’

  ‘Excuses.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re making excuses because you’re afraid you’ll fail.’

  ‘I am failing!’

  ‘That’s because you’re telling yourself it’s impossible.’

  ‘Because it is impossible,’ she snapped. She didn’t need this. It was supposed to help, but it was making her feel worse. Her fingers were tingling—the first sign of her power rising. A sob rose in her throat and she moved to push herself to her feet.

  His hand on her arm stopped her. ‘Don’t give up. I know you can do this. You’ve just got to believe in yourself.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘Yes you do.’ He gripped her hand, pulled her closer until their knees touched. Her skin tingled, but not with power—with something far warmer and more dangerous. She shivered. ‘Do you trust me?’

  Her gaze flickered to his. She hadn’t lied before. She did trust him. She didn’t know when or why or how, but she trusted him better than she’d ever trusted anyone, including herself. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then listen to me. Shifting is pain, but it’s also pleasure as we release part of our essence into the world. All you need to do is find something joyful to fill yourself with and wrap yourself in it as you change. After a while, it will be the change itself that brings you joy.’

  She huffed out a laugh. ‘I can’t imagine that could ever be true.’

  ‘It’s how I feel. It’s how every Were and shifter feels. I know you can feel it too. You just have to trust yourself. I do.’

  There it was again. His trust in her, warming her from the inside like a bonfire blaze just lit. That was her joy—his trust.

  ‘You’ve found something good, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then use that. Use it now and change.’

  She concentrated on the blaze of warmth his trust created in her, let it wrap around her and then pulled the image of Bluebelle up in her mind, letting the essence of the cat sink into her skin, her muscles, her ligaments, her bones. Then she let it sink into her mind—the final process before the change began—keeping the warmth of Iain’s trust, his voice, wrapped around her like a blanket.

  She let the change fold around her.

  It happened so quickly. One moment she was looking out of human eyes, and the next she was staring up at him through eyes that tilted the world at a different angle.

  Shock shivered through her, alongside a most incredible feeling of fulfilment. She’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be in another form
. Or maybe she’d never ever truly felt it. Not this sense of unutterable rightness.

  ‘Your change is so beautiful. Like molten gold in sunlight.’ He was staring at her, awe in his tone and expression.

  She purred, basking in his affirmation.

  A smile broke out on his handsome face. ‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’

  Yes, it did. More than good. For the first time ever, the change hadn’t been pure pain. It had been a marvel; uncomfortable as her cells shifted and rearranged themselves into something else, but full of golden, honeyed warmth that filled her with energy. Unable to help herself, she bounded in a circle, and then to the sound of his laughter, pounced over to him, the pull of her deformed foot not as bad in cat form, and rubbed her head on his knee.

  His eyes full of joy, he stroked her from head to tail. She purred loudly. ‘Hello, Little Bird.’ His low laugh lit the air again as she nipped at his hand in remonstrance, as if to say, ‘I’m a cat, idiot!’

  He seemed to understand. ‘A cat for now, but always my Little Bird.’

  The words were a warm blanket over her shivering soul. She rubbed harder against him, trying with everything in her to say the same back to him through touch. She’d never be able to tell him with words what his trust and friendship meant, but she could show him in other ways. She climbed into his lap and with her paws on his chest, licked his chin.

  ‘That tickles.’ He chuckled, grabbing her with his large hands and holding her still so he could look in her eyes. ‘Remarkable. Even in this form your eyes are still the same.’ She tried to shift her head, embarrassed—she’d always hated her eyes. They seemed somehow less than human, a constant reminder that she was different from all those around her. Even Cain didn’t have her eyes—his were a deep green, without the golden yellow tinge of hers, and they weren’t slanted as hers were.

  ‘Your eyes are beautiful, Eloise.’ His breath brushed over her fur like a caress and she stopped struggling. ‘I noticed them when I saw you as Bluebelle and thought them remarkable, but they are even more so in your human face.’ He tipped his head to the side again as if considering something. ‘I wonder if they are the same when you’re a different animal.’ His grin widened as he put her down. ‘Shall we see?’

  His enthusiasm was catching and she meowed a yes. He seemed to understand. ‘Watch me change and then see if you can mimic it. And don’t forget to fill your mind with something joyful.’

  She didn’t have any problems doing that. Not with him standing there, smiling down at her, sharing what seemed suddenly so intimate—the ability to change.

  With open wonder, she watched as the rainbow glow of Were change wrapped around him. It was so bright, almost blinding, and yet she couldn’t look away. And then there was a big black and silver wolf with Iain’s amber eyes standing in front of her. A few months earlier, she would have been frightened out of her wits, but now… She walked over to him and rubbed herself against him—except he was too tall and she could only wind around his legs. He made a noise that sounded like a chuckle and lowered his head so she could rub against him. If anyone were to walk into this scene now, they would stare in wonder—a huge wolf allowing a little tawny cat to use him as a rubbing post. But that person watching wouldn’t even know the true wonder; that for the first time ever, she thought she actually could do whatever she wanted.

  Standing back from him, she stared at his form. If she had seen another animal, she could turn into it. That’s what he’d told her shifters could do. But she didn’t want to turn into him. She wanted another form.

  An image came into her head of a snowy wolf she’d once seen at the zoo. With that image in her mind and the thought of joy bubbling in her heart, she pulled on the feeling of change inside her and wrapped herself in it. She was no longer a cat. She was a glorious white wolf with big peridot eyes. Gold tinged her vision as the change swept over her and then it was gone and she was almost staring the big black and silver wolf in the eyes.

  She could see the reflection of herself in his eyes—the snowy wolf in her mind.

  She’d done it!

  A wolf-bark escaped her mouth. Shocked, she skittered back and then barked again. She’d never known how freeing it could be to bark, to shout, to give free rein to every emotion inside.

  The big black and silver wolf—Iain—woofed back at her, the sound full of encouragement and pride. He’d told her she could do this and he was right. She barked at him again and spun in a circle, bouncing on legs that were strong and agile, despite the tightness of her deformed paw. With a sudden burst of speed, she raced to the edge of the grass area, turned and raced back to him. He yipped at her and nudged her with his big, handsome head, eyes sparking with fun and laughter. In her mind she heard an echo that sounded like ‘let’s run!’ and before she could think twice about what that voice was or where it had come from, she took off, Iain at her side.

  They ran through the garden and into the orchards, paws pounding on the hard dirt, flying past the trees at a speed she’d never dreamed of racing at before. Her deformed paw held her up, but only a little, and she pushed herself harder, faster. They burst out into an open field, the long grass warmed by the sun, whipping against her fur as they pounded, side by side.

  Sooner than she liked, she began to feel the pull of muscles, her breath an ache in her chest. She’d run further and faster than she’d ever done before, so she shouldn’t feel so sad, but she did. She couldn’t keep running. Couldn’t keep this magical moment from ending.

  As if he could hear her thoughts, Iain barked, slowed his pace and began to swing left. She followed.

  They broke out of the long grass and trees. The ocean spread before them, the sparkling blue-green deepening into the distance until it melted into the powder-blue sky. They ran to the edge of the cliff and stopped. The breeze had picked up. Spray hit her face—the salty-wet smell of the water and the briny tang of seaweed tumbled on the golden sand below filled her nose. The sun was hot, but the breeze held a hint of coolness as it ruffled through her fur.

  If she were to die tomorrow, she would die happy to have experienced such a perfectly wonderful moment as this.

  Iain stood beside her, a silent sentinel, seeming to understand her need to just be.

  How long she stood there she didn’t know, but then the urge to run rose up in her and, with a woof at Iain, she took off and down the steep path cut into the cliff that led to the beach. Her deformed paw made her stumble a bit, but she was used to that. She just kept on going.

  They ran and played chasey with each other and with the waves until she was panting. Tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth, she flopped onto the warm rocks, letting the sun seep into her wind-ruffled fur. Iain lay close beside her.

  The sun was high over their heads when her stomach grumbled and Iain signalled it was time to return. Exhausted and resigned that her day playing in the sun was over, she followed him back up the steep path. They didn’t run back this time, just content to trot side by side to the house. When they got there, Bron was waiting for them at the back door, a huge grin on her face.

  ‘Oh, Eloise, you’re beautiful.’

  She yipped her happiness at Bron, whose burbling laughter joined her wolfy noises. Eloise couldn’t help it. She loped up the steps, and rearing up, put her paws on Bron’s shoulders and licked up the side of her face.

  ‘Alright, alright.’ Bron’s shoulders shook as she took Eloise’s face in her hands, ruffling the hair around her ears. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a lovely time. Iain’s a good teacher. But you’ve been out long enough and I can tell you’re exhausted. And famished. Come inside, change, have a shower and then once you’re done, you can tell us all about it over some lunch.’

  Eloise woofed her agreement and lowered back down onto all fours. But just before she trotted inside after Bron, she turned back to Iain and nuzzled her head against his in thanks. In her head, she thought she heard that strange echo again, a voice that said, ‘My pleasure.’ But before sh
e could think anything about it, he’d turned and trotted away.

  Half an hour later, she came out of the bathroom. Bron had kindly brought her a long, flowing dress made of some soft material in a fresh, spring green—her clothes had dissolved when she’d changed. She spun, enjoying the way the skirt of the dress flowed around her bare legs, when there was a knock on the door—probably Bron calling her for lunch. ‘Come in.’

  The door swung open.

  Iain.

  Dressed in a blue T-shirt and board shorts, a bottle in his hand, he smiled wide. ‘You look pretty.’

  She blushed. If she looked pretty it was all because of him. The joy she’d felt earlier, her thankfulness to him for giving her the gift of her natural self, rushed up and over her. She raced over to him and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Thank you. Thank you.’

  His answering smile when she pulled back filled her with a warmth that touched the very centre of who she was. Deep inside, there was a vibration as something long dormant unfurled, like the frond of a fern waking to the sun. It was such a sweet sensation, an astonished bubble of laughter escaped her lips.

  Iain’s answering smile washed over her. Acting on impulse, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

  He jerked and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

  She stilled. Goddess—had she stepped over some essential boundary she hadn’t understood? She went to pull back when his hands cupped her face, and his mouth opened, tongue sweeping across her lips.

  Heat shot through her veins. A gasp shocked from her. He pulled back, the flash of something heated in his eyes. His fingers tightened on her cheeks as he searched her eyes for one heart-stopping moment. ‘Rain check over,’ he growled. Then his lips were on hers again. Clinging. Hungry. Demanding.

  The unfurling thing inside her opened with a sharp snap. The heat that had shot through her at the touch of his tongue on her lips burst into a raging blaze. It swept through her, cauterising any thought she had of pulling back. In one part of her mind she knew she should be frightened by the sudden intensity of rightness that swept through her, but she didn’t listen to that part. Only listened to the blaze as it turned her into an inferno of need. Her fingers shot into his hair, pulling him closer.