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.

you," Sara says with a shrug. "Ron can turn into anything. Well, with a

way up the cave wall with surprising grace, powerful hands finding invisible holds in the rock. Sparrow Bun flutters in panicked circles as he approaches, her tiny heart probably racing twice as fast

out uselessly, my hands

she trembles. Do birds pant? Because it looks

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

extending his palm toward me. The sparrow glares at me

a bright red apple in her hand. "Look, Bird Bun!

transformation is instant—feathers disappear into chubby little arms. Ron barely has time to set her down

this before you transform into a freaking pterodactyl!" Her voice is cajoling and upbeat, but the

chin, her eyes wide with momentary satisfaction—before

scream bounces off every surface, amplified by the

back arches in my arms like something possessed, her spine bending at angles which can’t be natural. Her tiny hands fist

flailing limbs as she twists, doing her baby damnedest to pull my hair out of

rapidly, hands to her mouth and eyes wide with horror. "Oh my Goddess, Bun, stop! The

in my

attack my forearm, and I bite back

moans, her eyes fluttering to the ceiling. "We’re doomed. Ron,

pizza—" Jer

Ron’s back from gorilla mode. He and Bun are both dressed, not naked; their shifts don’t seem to affect their clothing.

Queen," Sara hisses, like

his eyes. "Don’t be so dramatic, Sara. She’s

further away from me and the

when Jer jumps in, rounding on Ron. "Dude, don’t you pay any attention? The King wiped out an entire pack just because her ex-boyfriend was in

hair. I try my best to intervene in the escalating, inaccurate facts being thrown about, but every time I open my

hundred wolves because one of

not true," I protest, fighting to be heard over Bun’s continued screaming. "Caine didn’t—I mean, he did kill some of

stare at me with varying degrees of

Ron. "See? Told