Page 65 of Rabid
My eyes widen, flashing up to the healer first and then Tyran for help, but he winks at me and nods in encouragement.
Shit.
I have no idea how to spirit guide, let alone if I’m even deserving of such a thing. But the little girl is looking at me with big brown eyes, and I just can’t find it in me to gracefully decline. Besides, how would that look to the rest of the pack? I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially not her.
“What’s your name?” I ask the brown-haired girl.
“Briar.”
“I’d be honored, Briar,” I say, and the beaming smile she sends me melts me so much I’m surprised I don’t turn into a puddle at her feet.
Outside of the circle, Healer Vorria begins to sing an old song, her voice mingling with the smoke-filled air. I sidle up next to Tyran, not just for emotional support, but so I can copy his every move and hopefully keep myself from fucking this up.
One by one, the shifters chosen to act as the spirit guides for the pups kneel down. I drop to my knees in front of the girl, and she offers her hand. Vorria’s voice is soft and lyrical, so different andcalmcompared to the intense chanting and drums that surrounded my own Flux.
“Take her hand,” Tyran instructs, nodding to me.
I repress the urge to wipe my sweaty palm on my pants. I can’t let on how nervous I am, not when the little girl is depending on me, and not when she looks so sure and steady herself; there’s not an ounce of worry in her innocent face.
Taking the girl’s hand in mine, I hold steady and watch Tyran as he does the same for the boy in front of him. Behind us, I can hear more exchanges happening, but I focus on my mate. He looks at the boy and says, “May a wolf spirit bless you.”
Then, in a half-shifted mouth, he bites down gently on the inside of the boy’s wrist. He winces, though he suppresses any noise, and then Tyran steps away, mouth already shifted back and smiling.
I turn back to the girl and give her a warm grin. “Ready?”
She nods enthusiastically. “My wolf is up there waiting for me.”
“You can sense her?” I ask with surprise.
“Yep. She’s ready.”
“Well, alright then, let’s not keep her waiting.”
I call on my wolf, and she washes over me in a half-shift. I bite the girl as gently as possible, just enough to let her blood tease the air so her wolf will recognize her scent and latch onto her spirit.
The moment I’m done, two tawny wolves come forward, and the girl grips their fur. Her eyes light up like she’s just seen something, and I move out of the way instinctually. I can’t see what she’s seeing, but I feel something as a loud wind brushes up against me. The girl’s eyes suddenly roll into the back of her head, and she goes falling back. With a cry of alarm, I try to catch her, but the other wolves are already there, helping her weight to settle onto the ground. I spin around in a circle, seeing thatallof the kids are sprawled out, some of them shaking, some of them looking like they aren’t evenbreathing.
“Tyran…” Panic jumps from my throat and curdles my stomach. I search for Tyran’s calm excitement in my soul, and I tug at it and wrap it all around me like it’s the coziest of blankets. He reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing hard.
“It’s alright. Watch.”
With anxiety banging against my heart like a snare drum, I watch as Healer Vorria comes into the circle and begins to check on the pups one by one. The rest of the wolves are still fully shifted other than Tyran and me, two or more of them waiting patiently beside the kids. Vorria continues to sing quietly, a soft hum not to compete with the wind of the spirits, but one that complements it.
There’s no violence, no pressure, no ritual with blood symbols marked on skin in the dead of night. It’s simple, comforting,right.
It takes a few minutes, but the boy that Tyran bit is the first to begin to shudder. With a painful grunt, fur sprouts along his limbs, and the protective wolf circle seems to close, watching with excited pride.
Before he’s finished, two more start to do the same, and then all of their bodies are shifting for the first time, the little girl included.
Tyran comes over, a huge grin on his face. “Every single one of them received a wolf spirit,” he says, looking so damn proud. A grin splits my face, my heart still pounding wildly. I look around and see the young wolves finish their first shifts, tails shaking, tongues lolling. They crouch and lick at the muzzles of the wolves all around them, paws dancing over the ground.
He was right. The spirits didn’t force these pups to grow up or push them to take on roles they might not be ready for. They wiggle with adolescence and juvenile excitement, and as shocking as it is to see, it’s also beautiful and incredibly humbling.
I watch the pack eagerly greeting the newest wolf members, and I wonder, what would life have been like if this is howIgrew up?
Tyran sidles up to me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and nuzzling my neck. “You ready to run, Vicious? Ready to show these wolves what yours can do?”
My eyes widen with surprise, and I turn in Tyran’s arms. “Me?” I ask, my eyes searching his for answers.
