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.

with her," Ron calls out, not looking up from his book. He sounds bored.

times before words finally emerge. "What kind

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

around this. There’s special, and then there’s impossible. "Shifters can only transform into one animal.

The rules people tell you

says, and I wonder how he doesn’t scare her with the way he speaks. He sounds like

sporting not only the orange duck bill, but whiskers. She looks at me and quacks again, seeming delighted as her eyes crinkle up into happy little

My voice trails

plops down beside me, her small legs folded beneath her. Bun dives toward her head-first, sliding out of my arms with alarming ease, and my heart plummets, already envisioning her head splitting open

the older girl catches her like this is a daily occurrence. Maybe

wiggles in Sara’s lap, making her duck noises

the little girl

and legs spread wide as he announces, "I can be five

mouse and a rat are basically

different," he insists,

"Barely."

can still shift into more animals

least

Or however old he is. "Yeah, so different you can’t even fly when

sticks her tongue

and agility, suddenly rolling

suddenly launches himself at Sara with all the ferocity of a tiny predator. Tiny round ears

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

your ear off!"

bellows. "Yeah? Then I’ll make

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

I was never responsible for

Owen wades into the chaos like a superhero of questionable origin. One moment they’re a tangled mess on the ground; the next, two kids

It’s... comical, really.

said, enough," the reticent man states, as impassively terrifying

her freckled

indignation matches hers. "She stuck her tongue

neither of them break. They keep up the glowers and occasional kicks in each others’

builds until he finally speaks, his voice low and