Page 87 of Fang & Fury

He’d called it deliberately a few times now. Nonetheless, cold washed across his skin. Fear.

The blow came first, slamming into his gut hard enough to make him gasp. Nausea rose fast behind it, and then the tingling started in his hands, his feet, and the roots of his teeth.

Then his muscles—all of them—started to twitch and spasm. But that was only the beginning. Moments later they swelled, stretching and pulling until his skin tore. There was no blood, only a brutal realignment. His body twisted and flailed.

A shout tore from his throat as he dropped to the ground, head falling between his arms.

Fuck!

Every part of him was on fire. The beast was consuming him, ripping him open from the inside out.

Every time he shifted, he dared hope it might not hurt this badly.

Yet it never got any easier.

Throwing back his head, he howled.

The world shifted. Colors, sounds, and smells all became sharper.

He held still, drawing in another breath.

Damp earth. Rotting leaves. Moss. Water trickling over stone.

And beneath it all, somewhere beneath the roots of an oak, a tiny heart beat furiously.

Darach froze. A mouse?

Moments later, he crouched there panting, staring down at huge black paws, where scythe-like claws protruded.

His ears flicked. His nose twitched.

There was a hare just yards away, hiding in a growth of bramble. He could smell it too.

He drew in a deep breath, and then another, letting himself feel this new body.

Whatever Kayla had done worked. In the past, whenever he shifted, ‘Darach’ had simply vanished. The clag-doo pushed him into darkness while it hunted. He’d awake afterward with someone else’s blood on his hands and only flashes of memory of what he’d done. Aye, he’d been an observer, with no control over the beast.

But now, he was completely present.

He should have been relieved, yet he couldn’t focus on anything except the monstrous paws beneath him and the coiled tension in every muscle.

He moved then, stalking forward in long strides.

By the Five. This beast was strong. All long, sinewy muscle.

It was pure predator too; its senses were blade-sharp, tracking everything in the surroundings.

He’d thought it might go after the hare first, but it didn’t.

Instead, he found himself prowling over to a nearby oak—and then he started to rake those long meat-hook claws into the trunk.

A clag-doo’s claws were both its blessing and bane. They made it Albia’s most feared hunter, yet they grew constantly. The beast was cursed to be forever blunting them on trees. And it did so now, scratching in a frenzy.

Darach didn’t try to stop it. Instead, he observed, feeling the beast’s satisfaction as it ripped through bark and into wood, causing sap to run like blood.

It blunted its claws for a while, snarling and grunting with the effort before ceasing.

And then, it turned its attention to the hare.