the pack leader Jyrus

First shift part 2

The full moon festival loomed on the horizon, but that wasn't the only thing weighing heavily on Cyrus's mind. He couldn't shake the sense that something huge was coming—not just the festival, but something far more personal. His first shift.

It was supposed to be a moment of triumph, a rite of passage. But to Cyrus, it felt more like a curse. His friends had teased him endlessly about it, but none of them seemed to understand just how terrifying it was. He'd heard the stories—how painful the shift could be, especially without a mate by your side. Some omegas had it worse than others, and as the day of the full moon drew closer, Cyrus couldn't help but wonder if he would be one of those unlucky ones.

That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, Cyrus sat on his bed, staring at the moon rising through his window. It wasn't quite full yet, but it was close enough. His senses were already starting to tingle, the air around him thick with the electric hum of his shifting body. He could smell it—the unmistakable scent of the pack stirring in anticipation, but most of all, his scent. The scent he'd been carrying all day, the one Jonah had been following, even if neither of them had been brave enough to say it out loud yet.

His breath hitched at the thought of Jonah. He was supposed to be excited for the festival, but all Cyrus could think about was the fact that he'd be alone in this. Alone in his shift. Alone in the chaos that came with it. Alone without Jonah.

Focus, Cy. You're gonna be fine.

He clenched his fists, trying to keep the nerves at bay. As he did, he felt a rush of warmth flood his body, spreading outward from his chest. The moon was rising higher in the sky, and his wolf, Snow, was growing restless beneath his skin. The pull of the shift was strong now, the ache deep in his bones. He wasn't ready. But did he ever have a choice?

With a deep, steadying breath, he stood and moved to the center of the room. The ground felt solid beneath him, but everything else seemed to pulse with energy. The air was thick with anticipation. His friends had warned him about the shift. It could hurt, they'd said. You'll feel it. Every part of you will change. Your senses will be heightened. Your wolf will be with you, but she won't be gentle.

Great. Thanks, guys. That helps a lot.

His heartbeat quickened, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to center himself. He'd never done this before. He'd watched others shift, heard the howls, seen the glorious transformation of the pack's alphas and betas, but for him, it was different. He wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he ever would be.

A low growl rose in his throat, and he felt it—Snow pushing at the edges of his skin, eager to break free. He gritted his teeth, trying to control the shift, but the pressure was building too quickly. His skin began to tingle, a strange sensation as though it were stretching, tightening, like it was being pulled by invisible strings. His bones cracked and reshaped beneath him, but it was the pain in his chest that nearly drove him to his knees. It was a pressure, a suffocating force, like his ribs were being pushed apart, making space for something that wasn't quite human.

Snow was coming.

Not yet. Please, not yet.

He felt his body trembling, unable to stop the process now. His fingers elongated into claws, and his spine arched, the pain intensifying. The transformation was happening faster than he anticipated, and before he could even gather himself, the howl escaped his lips—a raw, powerful sound that resonated in every part of his being.

The change was too quick. Too painful. He collapsed onto the floor, his body buckling under the pressure as his vision blurred. This was it. The first shift. This was what they'd all warned him about.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, the pain stopped. He lay there, breathing heavily, covered in sweat, his body still twitching as the last of the transformation finished. Slowly, shakily, he rose to his feet, blinking as he adjusted to his new form. The world around him looked sharper, clearer. Every sound, every scent, was amplified to an almost painful level. His ears twitched at the smallest noise, his nose filled with the scent of pine, the crispness of the night air, and the lingering traces of his own scent—a deep, earthy aroma that seemed to pulse with every breath he took.

And there she was. Snow.

His white fur glowed softly under the moonlight, and for the first time, Cyrus felt the complete presence of his wolf. Snow's blue eyes—piercing and vivid, the color of ice and summer skies—shone with a clarity he hadn't known before. It was like she had always been there, and yet, seeing her now, fully in control, made him feel both awed and overwhelmed. Snow was powerful, a force of nature in her own right, and yet the bond between them was new, still fresh and untested.

Her instincts kicked in, and suddenly, it was as if her presence was filling every part of him. Her gaze lifted to the window, and before Cyrus could stop himself, his body moved toward it. It wasn't him doing it—it was Snow. She was hungry for the world outside, for the bond she was starting to feel, and that bond was already drawing Jonah near.

Jonah.

His pulse raced at the thought, and before he could control it, Snow's instincts surged forward. The world outside was alive with sounds and smells—rushing through his heightened senses was the unmistakable scent of Jonah. That wild, electric scent he could never seem to ignore.

Cyrus's heart skipped a beat as his eyes locked on Jonah's figure, standing just outside the house, his gaze trained on the window. Jonah wasn't just standing there—he was waiting. Watching him. Watching Snow.

He smells me.

The realization hit Cyrus like a wave. He didn't have to be in the same room for Jonah to feel it. The connection was undeniable, and it made every nerve in his body hum with a strange mixture of fear and excitement. Snow's wolf instincts were eager to answer, but Cyrus hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

No turning back now.

Snow's body moved on its own, as if the wolf had already made the decision. With each stride, Cyrus could feel the weight of the transformation settle within him. His limbs were stronger now, more confident. The world around him felt electric, and every step brought him closer to Jonah.

He reached the door and paused, taking one last breath. The full moon hung high in the sky, its glow illuminating his white fur, turning it into a ghostly, silver shadow. Snow's blue eyes shone with an almost ethereal glow, reflecting the moon's light, and her instincts screamed to be close to Jonah. To finally meet him.

With a deep breath, he stepped outside.

Jonah's eyes locked onto his instantly, and for the first time, the gap between them seemed impossibly small. Jonah's gaze softened, his posture straightening. He stepped forward, the air thick with the scent of their bond. And just like that, it was like the world stopped for a moment, both of them frozen in place as the connection solidified. Their wolves were alive, alive with each other.

"Cy," Jonah said, his voice low and filled with something softer than usual. His eyes trailed over the lines of Snow's white fur, the vivid blue of her eyes, and his smile softened. "You look... amazing."

Cyrus's heart raced, and Snow's instincts surged, pushing him closer. But Cyrus was still unsure, still overwhelmed by the force of it all. He opened his mouth, but it was Snow who answered.

"We're ready," she whispered through their bond, the words only Cyrus could hear. It was a silent promise. He wasn't alone.

Jonah took a step closer, his voice steady and sure. "You're not alone, Cy. I'm right here."

The words seemed to melt the last of Cyrus's fears, and slowly, with trembling paws, Snow leaned into Jonah's touch. The bond between them flared bright, and for the first time since the shift began, Cyrus felt like he belonged in his own skin.

This was just the beginning.