I lowered my massive head, pressing my muzzle into his palm. The touch grounded me, easing the storm of sensation that threatened to overwhelm whatever remained of my human consciousness.
His skin was warm against my fur, and I could feel his pulse through fingertips that shook with relief and residual fear. He was still afraid, I realized. Afraid that I was gone, that whatever remained in this wolf body was just animal instinct wearing my memories like ill-fitting clothes.
But I was still here. Changed, transformed, connected to forces I didn't understand, but still fundamentally me.
“That's him,” Dad said quietly, wonder threading through his voice. “That's my son.”
Dad’s heartbeat was fast but steady, fear mixing with parental love that refused to be diminished by circumstances beyond anyone's control.
The pack murmurs grew louder, voices carrying awe and wariness in equal measure. Some looked reverent, like they were witnessing something holy. Others seemed wary, calculating threats and benefits.
Alaric scoffed under his breath, though his eyes betrayed unease that his voice couldn't hide. “What's next? Humans sprouting wings? Witches turning into trees?”
But Jonah beamed despite bruises that painted his face in shades of purple and gold, whispering words that carried across the room despite his attempt at quiet. “Told you he wasn't useless.”
“Shift back,” Evan pleaded softly, voice rough with emotions I could smell but not quite identify through this new sensory apparatus. “Come back to me.”
I closed my eyes, searching for whatever mechanism controlled the change between forms. It should have been impossible, like trying to remember how to breathe manually. But the forest whispered guidance through roots and wind, showing me pathways through consciousness that led back to human skin.
Bones cracked and reformed, a symphony of breaking and healing that should have been agony but felt more like coming home to a body that remembered what it was supposed to be. Fur receded, claws became fingernails, and suddenly I was collapsing into Evan's arms as naked human flesh instead of supernatural predator.
The shift left me gasping, raw and exposed and absolutely freezing in October air that cut through skin like knives. But Evan was there, wrapping me in warmth and safety.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, forehead pressed against mine, golden eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Guess I'm harder to get rid of than Calder thought,” I rasped, throat still raw from damage that healing magic had repaired but not erased entirely.
The joke fell flat in a room full of people still processing what they'd witnessed. Because this wasn't something that happened in the normal world, wasn't covered in any textbook or training manual that prepared you for reality gone sideways.
Gideon still stared at me with disbelief etched into every line of his face, like I was evidence that everything he thought he knew about magic had been built on lies. “A wolf-druid,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “The forest has rewritten its own rules.”
He shook his head, fear replacing awe as implications settled into understanding. “It chose him. That means something none of us are ready for.”
Daniel's gaze hardened, Alpha mind already calculating what my transformation meant for pack politics and territorial boundaries and the delicate balance that kept supernatural communities from tearing each other apart.
But that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, I was alive when I should have been dead, transformed when I should have been buried, connected to forces that belonged in legend rather than suburban Oregon.
The pack began to disperse slowly. Some lingered, wanting to ask questions that had no answers, but eventually they all left us alone with silence that felt heavy as gravity.
Evan helped me to the bed in his loft, movements gentle and careful like he was afraid I might break if handled too roughly. We sat together in moonlight that streamed through windows, and for the first time since Anna's death, the world felt stable under my feet.
“Whatever you are now,” Evan said quietly, thumb brushing across the scar on my throat where Calder's claws had nearly ended everything, “you're still mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice should have chafed, should have made me want to assert independence that supernatural transformation had supposedly given me. Instead, it felt like coming home to a place I'd never been sure I was welcome.
“And you're stuck with me,” I whispered back, leaning into touch that grounded me to humanity even when everything else felt alien. “Forest, wolf, whatever the hell I am now. I choose this. I choose you.”
He kissed me then, slow and grounding and absolutely perfect. The world narrowed to just us, just this moment, just the simple truth that love was strong enough to survive anything,even transformations that rewrote fundamental rules about what was possible.
Outside, the forest hummed with life that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. I could feel it even in human form, that vast network of growth and decay and renewal that stretched across continents. But it didn't feel foreign anymore, didn't feel like invasion or violation.
It felt like coming home to a family I'd never known I belonged to.
For the first time since Mom's death, hope bloomed in my chest like flowers growing in winter soil. Not naive optimism that pretended everything would be easy, but real hope that recognized difficult truths and chose to believe in better futures anyway.
The war wasn't over. Calder's body had never been found, which meant he was probably still out there somewhere, nursing grudges and planning revenge that would make his previous attacks look like polite disagreements.
But tonight, we were alive. Tonight, we were together. Tonight, the forest had chosen to save someone it found worthy, and maybe that was enough to build new kinds of strength on.
