Biting my lip, I press a few numbers. Seven something? Seven-three… no. Damn. I can't even remember the area code.
The screen dims from inactivity, then goes black.
I've never felt so trapped by goodwill.
Chapter twenty-four
Grace: Strawberries (III)
"Here." I hand Owen his phone once he returns, and the absence of the device makes my fingers curl into fists. It's like handing over my safety.
He accepts it with a nod, tucking it into his pocket. Bun wiggles in Owen's arms, leaning toward me with grabby hands. Her eyes—wide and dark—fix on mine with intensity.
"Guh!" she demands, and I reach out without thinking.
Owen transfers her into my arms without comment. The weight of her settles against my chest, warm and solid.
I freeze.
The bunny ears I'd gently dried minutes ago have vanished. In their place are triangular, twitching appendages covered in fine black fur.
Cat ears. Definitely cat ears.
I blink hard, certain I'm hallucinating. My fingers tentatively reach up to touch one. It twitches beneath my touch—warm, soft, and undeniably real. Not a headband or costume piece, but flesh and fur growing directly from her scalp.
A dizzy sensation washes over me. This isn't possible.
"What the—" I cut myself off, glancing at the other children.
None of them seem remotely concerned. Sara and Jer are finished cleaning. Ron sits cross-legged on a woven mat, flipping through a dog-eared book with some cartoons on the cover.
Jer skips over, reaching up to stroke Bun's new ears with familiarity.
"Are you a cat now?" he asks with a grin, unfazed by this new development.
Bun responds with a high-pitched "Meow!" which sounds uncannily authentic. Her eyes narrow in satisfaction as Jer scratches behind her ears.
My arms tighten around her instinctively. "But she was—"
"Ooh, be a duck next!" Sara interrupts, hovering at my elbow. "Ducky Bun is the best!"
Before I can process what's happening, the cat ears melt away. Not falling off, not retracting—they simply disappear, sinking into her head. Bun's entire face shifts next, her nose and upper lip extending outward, hardening and flattening into an unmistakable yellow duck bill.
"Quack!" she announces proudly, her voice muffled by her new anatomy.
My knees nearly buckle, but I hold myself upright by sheer force of will and the vague panic I might drop the baby. "What's… how…?"
Cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I've lived with wolf shifters for years, seen what transformation looks like.
But they can only transform intowolves. Not random other animals.
A shifter can only be one thing.
This? It's impossible.
"Stop messing with her," Ron calls out, not looking up from his book. He sounds bored. Maybe mildly irritated. "You know she gets stuck sometimes when she shifts too fast."
My mouth opens and closes several times before words finally emerge. "What kind of shifter is she?"
