Page 6 of Fae Divided
An Anwyll didn’t acquire a defensive tattoo until their eighteenth birthday. The single offensive spell allowed wasn’t inscribed until they were twenty-five—the age of majority for all Fae Touched. The young shifter wouldn’t mean to hurt his more fragile classmates. But without the ironclad control of an adult Ferwyn, a playful swipe could turn deadly.
“Inside form, baby. Inside form,” she said with a firm but gentle voice.
The pup tucked his tail and whined.
Witt was an adorable boy with blond hair and soft brown eyes in human form. And a beautiful golden coat when wolf. He reminded her of Noah at the same age.
She and James wanted more children. More pups. In over thirty years of being mated, Sarah had only gotten pregnant once. The Ferwyn race didn’t conceive easily, nature’s way of culling the population of a long-lived species, but they held out hope they’d be blessed again someday.
Sarah scratched Witt behind the ear and set him on the floor. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. Shift back.”
A prickle of magic kissed her skin, and the wolf’s boy form reappeared—half-dressed.
Witt wore pants and nothing else. It took practice and concentration to retain or discard clothing when converting.
His bare chest heaved, big doe eyes filling. “I didn’t mean to. I was ’cited for meat.”
“I know.” Sarah brushed his baby-fine hair off his forehead. “Try not to do it again though, okay? You wouldn’t want to hurt Rachel or Annabelle by accident. Would you?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. He squeezed his eyes shut, and a green polo covered his torso. His feet remained bare.
“Does Witt have to eat yucky apples ’n sauce now, Miss Sarah?” Thomas Jr. piped in; his eyes wide with horror for his friend.
“No, he can have—” A wave of intense misery and regret flooded the mating bond. Sarah gasped, her hand pressing over the sudden pain enveloping her heart. “James.”
“Sarah, what’s wrong?” Julie seated Annabelle at the low table where Rachel was already coloring and hurried to her. “Are you ill?”
“No, it’s—” Samuel’s rage swiftly followed on the heels of James’ sorrow, doubling her over with the strength of his anger. The dual bonds buffeting her mind and body almost sent her to her knees. Julie’s arm wrapped around her waist, holding her upright.
“What can I do?” The intricately designed tattoo below the witch’s collarbone pulsed white in preparation for healing.
“I’m not hurt.” Not technically. “It’s the pack link. Something’s happening,” she panted through another blast of her brother’s fury. “Something bad.”
Sarah scanned the littlest shifters in the Clan. They were oblivious to the turmoil affecting the rest of the pack, Samuel shielding the pups from his wrath.
“Julie, can you watch the kids by yourself?” She straightened with difficulty and took a step from her concerned friend.
“Yes, go.”
Sarah pulled herself together and raced outside.
Ferwyn females couldn’t fully convert into wolf form, but their primal instincts remained intact. They were capable of shifting their fingertips into claws and their teeth into long canines. And along with enhanced senses, they had incredible speed. Increased strength.
Concentrating on the bond with James and her brother, she sprinted north toward the Harbor Complex. Several Ferwyn males darted past her on four legs, sensing a threat to the Walker Pack’s Alpha.
Fire slashed along Sarah’s hip and thigh. She stumbled, catching herself on the nearest wall. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the brick building while she panted through the burning pain.
James was hurting. Physically and mentally. The pain leaking through their link wouldn’t be there if he could control it.
A massive black wolf halted beside her, his head reaching Sarah’s shoulder. He stuck his muzzle close to her face and huffed.
“I’m fine. Go on, Hop.”
He hesitated, then broke into a run.
Sarah followed behind; her pace slowed to a crawl. She staggered forward, the myriad of emotions from both James and Samuel bombarding her until she could barely place one foot in front of the other.
She entered the complex’s outdoor courtyard and collapsed onto the nearest bench, a suffocating pressure on her throat making it hard to breathe.
