Page 64 of Shift of Morals
My stomach growled again. I was starving. Reaching in, I took a Bavarian cream filled and a cinnamon twist. Once I had my selections, the rest of my team fell on the box like a pack of ravenous wolves.
The first bite was so delicious, I had to stifle my moan. When I used magic more than normal, my appetite spiked, and I ate like a football player bulking up for the big game. On average, most magic users, no matter their flavor, ate more than a human.
Ben’s words came back to me, sending a shiver down my spine. The Chimera had already changed my DNA, so it wasn’t news, but to have it confirmed while knowing Finn did even more damage last night was enough to give me pause.
My hand shapeshifting of its own volition only added to my suspicions that I might have a rocky time ahead of me.
Just in time for Caelan’s wedding.
I popped the last of the treats in my mouth and chewed, realizing everyone had stopped and was staring at me.
“What?” I said with my mouth full.
Tess slowly slid the box of remaining donuts back over. “There are three more.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed. “Evie. You alright?”
I nodded. “I skipped dinner.”
True. Because I was comatose and near death.
Ash exhaled and leaned closer. “May I?”
I sighed and reached for another donut. “Go ahead.”
Ash touched two fingers to my wrist and closed his eyes as he sent his magic through my body. His magic was different fromBen’s but still gentle. Ash’s felt like running through a forest on a crisp autumn day.
When he pulled away, he tried to give me a reassuring smile, but we’d all known him too long.
“Is she alright?” Moira asked, her voice sharp.
“She’s not sick,” Ash reassured her. “But the incident last night changed Evie’s genetic makeup.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you having issues controlling the shift?”
My pause was answer enough.
Moira swore. “Evie. Do you need to take some time off?”
“Nope,” I said through a mouthful of donut. “Caelan’s wedding is coming up. There’s too much to do.”
“We can handle it,” Ash said.
“And so can I. This is a blip on the radar. I should be okay.”
“Time will tell,” Hazel said ominously.
“I will be,” I insisted.
“We’ll see what we’re dealing with when we get back to your place this evening,” she retorted.
As if I were something to deal with.
“And the tattoo?” I asked. Ben had fixed the cut across the thistle tattoo, but the magic had petered out, broadcasting my heritage to anyone with a sharp enough nose. Chimeras weren’t common, but if anyone had ever had dealings with one, they would recognize me soon enough.
Even with my fae heritage mixed in.
“I slapped a magical patch on it,” Hazel said. “It will hold until I can make a new one.”
“Should we remove the old one?”
