“Yeah.”
“Do you know who your father was?”
I shake my head.
Red hesitates, then pulls a different page from the folder.
“I ask because I found something in your birth records. Nothing concrete. Just… a classification marker.” He taps a box on the form. “Your father was listed as a shifter.”
I stare at it, dumbfounded. Mom never talked about my father. Ever.
“They didn’t list species, and they didn’t list a name. But it wasn’t marked ‘unknown’. They marked ‘shifter,’ which makes me think it was intentional.”
“What… what does that mean?”
He smiles patiently. “It means you might be carrying more shifter blood than you realize. So if you do shift…”
I exhale sharply. “I might not go feral.”
He chuckles at my word usage, but nods.
I chew my lip. “Rowen said some half-bloods never shift back.”
“That, unfortunately, is still true. But not always.” He runs his fingers over the stack of papers again, as if recalling something. “From what I’m seeing, people whoknowwhat they are before they shift? They always shift back. Every time. It just takes longer than a regular shifter. Plus, with your father’s genetics… I don’t think you should worry.” He smiles at me. “The point I’m trying to make, Tobias, is your mother never had thechanceto bond with her animal, even after she knew what she was. The report said they stunned her into submission and forced the shift, then took her to jail. Her consequence was living on suppressants. But you… you might not need to, especially with your father being a shifter too.”
“You’re saying I should try to shift?”
He shrugs. “I’m saying you should at least consider it. Embrace the idea.”
“But what about the voices?”
He pauses. “You want to know the truth? I think it’s your shifter instincts.”
I blink in surprise.
“I’ll be the first to tell you, every one of us hears our instincts louder than reason sometimes. It can feel like chatter in our heads. The difference is, we listen before we act. So maybe you’re learning to tune in.” He touches my leg. “And if that’s the case, the trick isn’t to silence it, Toby—it’s to figure out what’s talking, and why. Don’t run from it. Learn to hear it safely.”
My breath catches. Could it really be my shifter side trying to connect with me? That seems insane. Why would my shifter side sound like Rip?
But if what he’s saying is true about my father’s side…
I stare down at the small checkbox.
“Society fears half-bloods because they don’t understand them,” Red continues. “They’d rather force suppressants on them than give them a chance to adapt. I don’t want to do that. Not if we don’t have to. I will order them if that’s what you really want, but at least consider there’s another option, okay?”
“I still don’t want to hurt anyone,” I say.
His voice lowers. “Trust us to keep you safe.”
Red seems certain this is the answer, like he’s worked it around so much in his head it’s the only possible explanation. But… me? Shift? I haven’t let myself think about it. Too afraid I’d go feral, or worse, get stuck in that form and have to eat squirrels for the rest of my life. But Red seems to think—no, he actuallybelievesit’s possible. That maybe even that side of me is getting stronger or something.
If he’s right, then that means I could someday live like they do. Or something close to it, anyway.
Suddenly, that photography job doesn’t feel so impossible.
He places the paper back into the file and sets it aside. “Have you had any other symptoms with the mark on your shoulder? Any new heat or light or… anything?”
I shake my head.
