Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 82: Grace: Strawberries (III)

"Here." I hand Owen his phone once he returns, and the absence of the device makes my fingers curl into fists. It’s like handing over my safety.

He accepts it with a nod, tucking it into his pocket. Bun wiggles in Owen’s arms, leaning toward me with grabby hands. Her eyes—wide and dark—fix on mine with intensity.

"Guh!" she demands, and I reach out without thinking.

Owen transfers her into my arms without comment. The weight of her settles against my chest, warm and solid.

I freeze.

The bunny ears I’d gently dried minutes ago have vanished. In their place are triangular, twitching appendages covered in fine black fur.

Cat ears. Definitely cat ears.

I blink hard, certain I’m hallucinating. My fingers tentatively reach up to touch one. It twitches beneath my touch—warm, soft, and undeniably real. Not a headband or costume piece, but flesh and bone and fur growing directly from her scalp.

A dizzy sensation washes over me. This isn’t possible.

"What the—" I cut myself off, glancing at the other children.

None of them seem remotely concerned. Sara and Jer are finished cleaning. Ron sits cross-legged on a woven mat, flipping through a dog-eared book with some cartoons on the cover.

Jer skips over, reaching up to stroke Bun’s new ears with familiarity.

"Are you a cat now?" he asks with a grin, unfazed by this new development.

Bun responds with a high-pitched "Meow!" which sounds uncannily authentic. Her eyes narrow in satisfaction as Jer scratches behind her ears.

My arms tighten around her instinctively. "But she was—"

"Ooh, be a duck next!" Sara interrupts, hovering at my elbow. "Ducky Bun is the best!"

Before I can process what’s happening, the cat ears melt away. Not falling off, not retracting—they simply disappear, sinking into her head. Bun’s entire face shifts next, her nose and upper lip extending outward, hardening and flattening into an unmistakable yellow duck bill.

"Quack!" she announces proudly, her voice muffled by her new anatomy.

My knees nearly buckle, but I hold myself upright by sheer force of will and the vague panic I might drop the baby. "What’s... how...?"

Cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I’ve lived with wolf shifters for years, seen what transformation looks like.

But they can only transform into wolves. Not random other animals.

shifter can only be

This? It’s impossible.

book. He sounds bored. Maybe mildly irritated. "You know she gets stuck sometimes when she shifts

before words finally emerge.

book closed. "Didn’t we already tell you? We’re

then there’s impossible. "Shifters can only transform into one animal. That’s how it

The rules people tell you

I wonder how he doesn’t scare her with the way he speaks. He sounds like he’s going to murder us all if she doesn’t

only the orange duck bill, but whiskers. She looks at me and quacks

My voice trails off.

her. Bun dives toward her head-first, sliding out of my arms with alarming ease,

older girl catches her like this

lap, making her duck noises with glee as she

the

me, arms across his chest and legs spread wide as he announces, "I can be

eyes dramatically. "A mouse and a rat are basically the same thing. And a guinea

different," he insists, glowering at

"Barely."

still shift into

At least mine

however old he is. "Yeah, so different

tongue out at

insight and agility, suddenly rolling off Sara’s lap

of a tiny predator. Tiny round ears pop out of his

floor, a tangle of child-sized limbs and high-pitched

your ear

Then I’ll make

Should I intervene? Let them work it out? The line between responsible adult and

never responsible for breaking up fights between kids.

superhero of questionable origin. One moment they’re a tangled mess on the ground; the next, two kids have been hauled off the floor by the backs of their shirts, kicking and punching wildly as they dangle

It’s... comical, really.

man states, as impassively terrifying as

her freckled face

stuck

them break. They keep up the

until he finally speaks, his voice low and matter-of-fact: "I