Moon-marked 3: Quintessence

Chapter 2

The world turned. Seth knew it did, but it was something he had never really felt before. His mind was spinning now, though, and glancing down at his hands only to see paws certainly didn't help matters. Becky was still naked, frozen in front of him with the hem of his shirt in his hands, and for a moment he forgot why they were there. A wave of scent bowled him over: tree sap, animal musk, Becky's sweat, the gas in his SUV—all things he had never been able to smell before. "What's going on?" he croaked, dropping to his knees.

Becky quickly crouched beside him, yanking his shirt over his head as gently as she could. "I—I think you're shifting?" Panic laced her voice with a thread of ice, a sharp contrast to how hot her hands were as she undressed him, tossing his clothes carelessly to the side. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening. How do you feel?"

Seth let out a scream that felt like it tore his guts apart, writhing on the blanket where he had been sitting innocently just moments ago. His MCL, his ACL, his medial meniscus, his back: Seth had lost count of his injuries. What he felt now was like all those injuries combined, all at once; he could hear bones popping, flesh tearing, muscles stretching, and all he could do was scream. "Bite," he managed to rasp after a particularly brutal wave of pain that made him fall to the forest floor and start shaking. "When you bit me...?"

"No. No, that wouldn't be enough to turn you." Her hands were feverish on his side as she tried to roll him onto his belly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don't know what to do. I'm sorry." Becky made a strangled sound, but another wave of agony racked him as Seth tried to turn so he could see her. When he felt small drops land on his back, he knew she was crying. "Okay. Okay. I've shifted before. I've watched other people shift. I can do this." The fake confidence in her voice sounded the way shattered glass looked, falsely bright but still sharp and dangerous. "Um, okay. Press your hands—your... paws—hard into the ground, like you're at the starting line for a race."

Becky's voice was almost too fast to follow, but Seth knew why: his body was changing too quickly and soon he wouldn't be able to understand her at all. He pressed his hands against the ground as he was told, trying not to flinch when he felt every pine needle and clump of dirt magnified tenfold. "Hurts," he ground out as Becky tried to reposition his legs.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I don't know why this is happening...." Becky kept murmuring instructions, and at first Seth thought her voice was thick and low because she was crying. Then Seth caught another scent: fear. She was scared for him—and a bit scared of him; she was trying to use the low, slow tone people used for calming down angry animals. "Bend your elbows and your knees. That will help it hurt less."

Seth heard a sharp snap and tried to rear up, knocking his head into Becky's chin and making her tumble back. Something black and circular fell from her hand and another scent unfurled in his nose: his shampoo. She had only been trying to loosen his hair. "Sorry," he panted, legs giving way and spilling him back into the dirt.

"No, no. It's okay." Becky stood up gingerly and rubbed her jaw; the red smear at her mouth smelled of copper and Seth had to keep himself from trying to lick it away. "Oh, fuck. This is going to hurt. This is going to hurt you so much. I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around him lightly, giving him plenty of room to move, and peppered kisses across his shoulders as another wave of pain surged through him. "You're doing really well," she whispered by his ear.

He begged to differ. Just when Seth thought his arm was going to snap off, the pain would bloom in his leg; his vision would go grey for a minute, but then his jaw would feel like it was being torn away. Becky kept stroking his back and murmuring suggestions, but the pain kept coming. Then, like a dam giving way, he was washed away in a flood of sensation: not just pain, though that was certainly at the forefront, but also pleasure and wonder and relief. He opened his mouth to howl, but something stole his attention. Soft, warm, tasty. What teeth were for.