Page 73 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

“It’s similar to shifting into wolf form,” Caleb explained, pulling his jeans back on. “But instead of reaching for your wolf, you reach for your human self.”

“Remember how it feels to stand upright,” Derek added. “Picture your human body, feel it waiting for you.”

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. I pictured myself—human me—and tried to reach for that shape the way I’d reached for my wolf. But something felt… stuck. Like trying to open a door with the wrong key.

After several minutes of intense concentration that produced exactly zero results, I opened my eyes and looked up at the brothers questioningly.

“It’s okay,” Marcus reassured me. “First shifts are always the hardest. Try again, but don’t force it.”

I tried again. And again. And again. Each attempt left me more frustrated than the last. The sun was now setting, shadows stretching across the clearing, and I was still very much a wolf.

“This isn’t working,” Caleb said finally, concern creeping into his voice. “He should have shifted back by now.”

A cold tendril of fear wound through me. What if I was stuck like this? What if I never shifted back? Would I have to learn to type with my paws? Would Luke have to translate my yips and barks for the rest of my life?

“Don’t panic,” Marcus said firmly, though whether to me or his brothers wasn’t clear. “Sometimes the first shift lasts longer. His body is still adjusting.”

“We should get him back to the manor,” Derek suggested, already gathering my discarded clothes. “It’s getting dark.”

I was definitely panicking now. This was not how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to shift, run around a bit, shift back, and then pepper the brothers with questions about my tiny wolf form. Not get stuck as a permanent pocket-sized canine!

Marcus must have sensed my rising distress because he knelt and scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his chest like a child. “It’s going to be alright, little mate,” he murmured, his hand stroking soothingly along my back. “We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to believe him, but as we headed back toward the manor—me being carried like some kind of furry football—all I could think was that this was just my luck. My first supernatural ability, and I’d already broken it.

“Jorge is going to have a field day with this,” Caleb said, trying to lighten the mood. “He’s been threatening to make you special protein shakes for weeks. Now he can finally make those gourmet dog treats he’s been researching.”

I growled, the sound much less intimidating coming from my tiny wolf form than I’d hoped.

“Not helping,” Derek said, cuffing Caleb lightly on the back of the head.

As the manor came into view, lights glowing warmly in the gathering dusk, I tried once more to shift back. Nothing happened except a slight twinge in what I assumed were now my wolf muscles.

Great. Just great. Somehow, I’d managed to ace the “turning into a wolf” part of Werewolf 101 but completely flunked the “turning back into a human” portion. Luke was never going to let me hear the end of this.

Assuming, of course, I ever had human ears again.

Chapter 17

The manor door swung open before we reached it, Maria’s worried face appearing in the warm light. Her expression cycled through concern, confusion, and then—worst of all—absolute delight when she spotted me cradled in Marcus’ arms.

“Dios mío!” she exclaimed, hands flying to her cheeks. “Qué precioso(how beautiful)!”

Great. I’d been demoted from “person” to “precioso” in record time. Just what my wounded dignity needed—to be cooed at like a newborn kitten when I was having an existential crisis about being permanently furry.

“He shifted but can’t shift back yet,” Marcus explained, carrying me into the foyer.

Maria’s eyes widened. “Cannot shift back? But why?”

“First shifts can be complicated,” Derek said, his tone suggesting this wasn’t entirely unexpected. “His body needs time to adjust.”

“Time to adjust?” I wanted to scream. “I have opposable thumbs to reclaim! A life that doesn’t involve eating from bowls on the floor!”

But all that came out was a pathetic whine that only made Maria’s expression soften further.

“Pobrecito(poor thing),” she murmured, reaching out to stroke my head. “Don’t worry, we will take care of you until you change back.”

That was exactly what I was afraid of.

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