Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 85: Grace: Wild Child

I reach for the fluttering brown sparrow darting through the room, but my fingers close on empty air as Bun zips toward the ceiling.

"Damn. You were so close," Ron says.

"Yeah, damn," Jer echoes.

Sara sighs. "You’re not supposed to use bad words."

Meanwhile, I’m waving my hands frantically as I shout, "Bun, please come down!"

The tiny bird chirps manically, wings beating frantically in hunger-induced chaos. She’s been shifting nonstop for twenty minutes—from bunny to kitten to fish (a terrifying thirty seconds of flopping), and now this. My heart hammers against my ribs even as I wonder how a toddler who can barely walk a straight line has already figured out flying.

"She’s losing it," Ron says beside me, craning his neck upward. "The pizza’s taking too long."

Jer nods grimly. "Sugar crash. Plus she’s still growing."

He sounds so wise, but I don’t think her growth has anything to do with her current state of mania.

I watch helplessly as the little brown bird dives toward a particularly threatening-looking piece of wall. "Can’t you guys do something?"

Sara crosses her arms, shaking her head. "She’s too fast. Last time she went bird, Owen had to use a net."

"And Sara can’t figure out how to fly, so she’s useless," Jer adds.

"Shut up, Jer!"

The sparrow swoops directly over our heads, chirping what sounds suspiciously like swear words. Except she’s a toddler, and I’m pretty sure she only knows about fifteen actual words.

Ron sighs, sounding so resigned, you’d think he was asked to work overtime. "I’ll get her."

His transformation happens in a blink—one second he’s a gangly preteen boy with messy hair and eyes too old for his face, the next he’s a young gorilla, his fur glossy black.

My jaw drops.

says with a shrug. "Ron can turn

the cave wall with surprising grace, powerful hands finding invisible holds in the rock. Sparrow Bun flutters in panicked

uselessly, my hands pressed

beak open as she trembles. Do birds pant? Because it looks like she’s

cups around the tiny bird. She pecks at his fingers, but he doesn’t flinch, just cradles her close to his chest and begins

toward me. The sparrow glares at me out of

red apple in her hand. "Look, Bird

Ron barely has time to set her down before she’s fully Toddler

palms. "Here, eat this before you transform into a freaking pterodactyl!" Her voice is cajoling and upbeat, but the words don’t match

apple, juice dribbling down her chin, her eyes wide with momentary satisfaction—before her

scream bounces off every surface, amplified by the cave’s acoustics into

before she can shift again, lifting her squirming body against my chest. Her back arches in my arms like something possessed, her spine bending

I struggle to contain her flailing limbs as she twists, doing her baby damnedest to

and eyes wide with horror. "Oh my

my arms like a

toddler teeth attack my forearm, and I

Sara moans, her eyes fluttering to the ceiling. "We’re doomed. Ron, can you turn into a horse?

the pizza—"

and Bun are both dressed, not naked;

hisses, like

so dramatic, Sara. She’s not the

is!" Sara insists, backing further away from me and the

don’t you pay any attention? The King wiped out an entire pack just because her

best to intervene in the escalating, inaccurate facts being

a hundred wolves because one of them looked

didn’t—I mean, he did kill some of my pack, but not because of

with

turns to Ron.