Betty POV
"Move away from me!"
The words rip out of my throat, but they do not sound human. They sound like bones grinding together under a heavy boot.
Every single vertebrae in my spine is twisting. It feels like someone is hammering iron rods directly into my lower back, forcing my ribs to crack outward. My skin is too tight. My clothes feel like burning plastic against my flesh. This is not a full shift. Tola is pushing, clawing at the inside of my ribs, but she is stuck half-way.
I lift my arm to wipe the sweat from my eyes. My hand is thick, tipped with dark, blunt points that do not belong to me.
"Betty, sit still," Ian says, his voice cutting through the thick hum in my ears. He steps forward, his palms raised. "Do not force it. Just breathe through the heat."
I swing my hand
