âOh, my God, no.â My heart rate and breathing skyrocketed as I braced myself against the sink and studied my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes had gone amber. Auburn hair had sprouted along my forearms, and claws extended from my bloody fingertips, still aching from their release.
This wasnât PTSD or a trick of the mind. This was real.
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I couldnât move. The horror of the truth had rendered my body immobile.
There was no pretending anymore. I was turning into a werewolf.
I dug my clawed fingers into the side of the sink as I turned every scenario over in my head. How had this happened?
Jaxson had told me that it was practically impossible to catch lycanthropy from a bite, and while Iâd been scratched and clawed and knocked around by werewolves, I hadnât ever been bitten.
I closed my eyes, recalling the events of the past two weeks. The rogue wolves had hauled me off to an old sanitorium and drained my blood. Theyâd also injected me with something. Iâd thought it was designed to repress my magic, but what if it was something worse?
Had those bastards done this to me? Had they tried to turn a LaSalle into a werewolf?
Trembling, I leaned forward and bared my teeth in the mirror. They looked normal, despite the deep ache in my upper and lower jaw. I used my knuckle to push aside my lip so I could inspect my gums, andâ¦fucking hell. They were swollen and red, and touching them made the pain worse.
A jarring noise shook me from my thoughts, and I looked around wildly.
The door handle rattled again as someone tried to get in. I covered my ears as they started pounding on the door. The sound was almost deafening.
âThis oneâs taken,â I croaked, my throat suddenly drier than a bone. âUse the other!â
I had to find a way to fight this.
Agony exploded through my stomach, and I doubled forward, leaning my weight on the sink. Tears streamed from my eyes, mixing with the blood on the porcelain. I could the bloodâjust one of a hundred scents filtering through my mind, most of them revolting.
I gasped as a sharp pain erupted through my jaw, and I looked up in horror. Blood ran from my lips. Iâd sprouted fangs.
I had to get out of here, away from these people. If anyone at the party saw this, theyâd crucify me. But where could I go? I had no one to turn to. Casey would never understand, and if Laurel found out, sheâd kick me out or worse.
I could hide in the shadows. I just had to slip into the park without being noticed, then I could disappear into the woods and wait for this to pass. It pass, right?
Of course it would. Iâd seen my eyes turn this color before.
Having a plan gave me courage. Gut throbbing, I staggered over to the door and listened, but I could barely make sense of what I heard. My ears were drowning in noise. The light above buzzed incessantly, and the music sounded like someone had parked a loudspeaker right outside.
Even with all that, I could still hear the conversations of people by the bonfire.
The bathroom door beside mine opened and slammed with a reverberating thud as someone left. I could hear the soft padding of footsteps crossing the grass, though it was like the walker was stomping through hay right next to my head.
Gripping the handle, I unlocked the door and slipped outside and around the building. Casey was talking to some people, his back turned to me. Hopefully, heâd assume Iâd left and wouldnât come looking.
I tried pulling the darkness around me, but my magic didnât flow. Too much noise. Too much pain. I gasped and shuddered as a piercing ache shot through my shoulder blades.
It was now or never. This wasnât going to stop.
I scrambled frantically for the deep shadows of the park, fear biting at my heels. My feet thundered over the ground, but when I looked back, no one had turned around.
Another bout of sickening pain hit me, and my vision skewed. When I looked up, the shapes of the trees and the leaves on the ground were brighter and clearer than they should have been. I could make out details of things that should have been impossible to see at night.
The scents of the forest were so overwhelming, I nearly gagged. Hundreds of plants and animals that I could barely identify. Traces of creatures and people that had passed by hours or days ago. The aroma of ripe berries and dead animals and rotting vegetation.
Mind whirling, I pushed deeper into the woods with no idea of where I was headed, just that I had to get as far away from the bonfire and those people as possible.
The moon peeked through the leaves above. I ran and ran, stumbling every time the agony returned. My skin felt raw, and even the lightest breeze was too much.
This couldnât be how Sam and Jaxson experienced the world, could it? Theyâd go mad.
A wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over and choked.
Would I?
Gasping, I pushed forward into the trees, but the chafing of my clothes against my skin became unbearable. I yanked off my shirt and shimmied out of my jeans, cursing as they rubbed like sandpaper. My breathing came in huffs, and tears streamed down my face. I slowed, too exhausted to continue.
The buzzing of cicadas, the scurrying of an animal in the underbrush, and the creaking of branchesâit was all deafening. I cupped my hands over my ears and craned my head upward, silently praying for this all to be a nightmare.
But it wasnât.
A gut-wrenching force exploded inside me, snapping my spine like a twig. I shrieked and dropped to the ground, my vision blurring from the pain.
When I opened my eyes, the moon was no longer visible through the trees. My body felt broken and wasted, like Iâd been beaten to a pulp. I rolled onto my hands and knees, panting as sweat poured down my forehead, stinging my eyes.
Everything was wrong.
Iâd seen werewolves transform. It happened in seconds, not minutes or hours. Had those bastards turned me into a freakish aberration? A half-human science experiment doomed to tear itself apart and die?
Agony struck again, and my back arched as my insides rearranged themselves, my ribs popping. A scream tore from my throat, stealing all the air from my lungs. Then the bones in my fingers cracked and shortened. My wrists couldnât bear my weight, so I rolled onto my side, wincing at the stabs in my chest.
Another snap, this time my thigh bone. And then the other one. I cried out, my voice sounding distant and feral. The pain was too much. My knees were next, and then my ankles. I didnât have the strength to scream, so I whimpered, my tears soaking the ground beneath me. Through my streaming eyes, I saw that my legs were twisted and covered in fur. My body quaked with fear and pain.
What had I become?