Shifting Destiny

Chapter Seven

Dreams come in fragments, disjointed images that flash behind my closed eyelids like scenes from a life I've never lived. I'm running through dense forest, the ground soft beneath paws I shouldn't have. The night air fills my lungs, crisp and alive with scents I shouldn't be able to detect—pine sap, decaying leaves, the distant musk of deer. My body moves with a fluid grace that feels both foreign and familiar, muscles coiling and releasing as I navigate the darkness with ease.

The moon hangs full and heavy above, bathing the forest in silver light that illuminates everything with preternatural clarity. I feel powerful. Free. Untethered from the constraints of humanity.

Freedom. Power. Belonging.

The sensations flood through me, intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure. In this dream, I am whole. I am wild. I am something more than I have ever been.

Then I see him—the black wolf, his golden eyes fixed on me as he stands atop a rocky outcrop. He watches, waiting, calling to something deep inside me that I don't recognize. I should be afraid, but I'm not.

Instead, something primal stirs within me—a recognition, a connection that transcends fear. The black wolf's gaze holds mine, and in that moment, I understand without words that we are bound together by something ancient and unbreakable.

I startle awake with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal. The dream clings to me, vivid and disorienting. For a moment, I'm caught between two realities - the wild freedom of running through the forest and the strange confines of this stone room. My skin prickles with phantom sensations, as if my body remembers what it feels like to be covered in fur, to move on four legs instead of two.

Sitting up slowly, I notice I'm alone now. The woman and the man with the golden eyes are gone, leaving only the flickering lantern light for company. My body feels different - stronger, despite the lingering soreness. The ache has transformed into something more like growing pains, as if my muscles and bones are stretching to accommodate something new.

I flex my fingers, watching with morbid fascination as my nails sharpen slightly, then retract to normal human nails again. The control isn't conscious—it's instinctive, like breathing or blinking. A small sound escapes me, halfway between wonder and horror.

This is real. This is happening.

The stone floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I carefully stand, testing my balance. My legs tremble briefly before steadying, stronger than they should be after what I've been through. The aches remain, but they're distant now, like echoes of pain rather than pain itself.

I take a tentative step forward, then another. Each movement feels different—more controlled, more precise. My body responds with a fluidity I've never known, as if I'm inhabiting a form that's finally aligned with what I'm meant to be.

My senses tingle as I move cautiously through the space. The stone room is larger than I initially thought, with arched ceilings that disappear into shadow. It feels ancient, primal—a place carved from the earth itself rather than built by human hands. The air carries strange scents: herbs I can't name, smoke from the lanterns, and something else—something wild that makes my nostrils flare and my heart beat faster.

I approach a small wooden table against the far wall. A basin of water sits atop it, alongside a folded cloth. Without hesitation, I splash the cool water on my face, trying to clear the last vestiges of sleep from my mind. When I look up, I catch my reflection in a small, tarnished mirror hanging above.

The stranger staring back at me makes my breath catch. My features have sharpened, the angles of my face more pronounced.

But most striking are my eyes. The gold has intensified, glowing with an inner light that no human eyes should possess. I lean closer, watching in fascination and horror as my pupils contract then expand, adjusting not just to the light but to my emotions. When my heart rate spikes with fear, they dilate, then narrow as I force myself to calm.

I touch my face with trembling fingers, tracing the new angles of my cheekbones, the sharper line of my jaw. My skin feels the same—but somehow different, as if what lies beneath has been fundamentally altered.

"It takes time to get used to it."

I whirl around, my body reacting faster than my mind can process. The man with the golden eyes stands in the doorway, watching me with that same unreadable expression.

"What am I?" I ask, my voice steadier than I expect.

He gives me a sharp smile, “You are still human but not…at least for now. You haven’t fully went through the change yet. You have a month before the change fully sets in…..” He paused as if hesitating to say what else was on his mind.

“What?” I asked sharply, my voice coming out in an unhuman growl making me flinch back.

“That is if you survive the full month to transform. You don’t have any werewolves in your line so…the change could kill you.” He told me and I stare at him blankly trying to process this.

“So…I just have to hope I survive then?” I bit out, feeling my temper flare out of nowhere.

The man gave a small nod, “Yes. We are here to help you as much as we can but the wolf who bit you isn’t in his right mind to help you with the change like most changelings are.”

I wanted to give a bitchy remark back, but I held it back. It seemed even coming into the world of supernatural I couldn’t have it easy.