Chapter 64: Shifting’s Easy, Right?
"Aren’t you, mate?"
I turn to find Leo standing at the edge of the ring, and my breath catches in my throat the way it always does when I see him. He’s massive in a way that defies reasonable explanation, all muscle and scars and raw masculine power wrapped in a package that looks like it walked straight out of a Viking saga. His dark hair is pulled back in that signature undercut, the sides shaved close while the top is long enough to be gathered into a thick braid that falls all the way down to the back of his thighs.
He’s shirtless like Jax, wearing only a pair of dark pants. His eyes find mine across the distance, pale and intense, and I feel pinned by the weight of his gaze.
"I’m not afraid," I say automatically, even though we both know it’s a lie.
Leo doesn’t respond. He just walks into the ring with that predatory grace that makes it clear he’s never been prey in his entire life, and when he reaches us he stops close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
The size difference between us is almost comical, he’s easily a foot taller than me and probably twice as wide, and standing this close to him makes me feel small for once. I know, bone-deep and certain, that he would never use his size against me. That all that power and strength exists to protect me, not threaten me.
"Fear stops the shift," he says, and his voice is quiet but absolute. "Nothing else. Just fear."
"That’s it?" I ask, unable to keep the scepticism out of my voice. "That’s your whole teaching philosophy? Don’t be afraid?"
Something that might be amusement flickers in his pale eyes.
"Yes."
Jax snorts beside me.
"Leo’s not big on lengthy explanations," he says, shooting the bigger man a fond look. "But he’s not wrong. The shift is instinct. Your wolf wants to come out. She’s been waiting her whole life to come out. The only thing stopping her is you holding on too tight."
"Holding on to what?" I ask, frustration bleeding into my voice. "I’m not trying to stop her. I want this. I want to shift. I just don’t know how."
"You’re holding on to control," Leo says, and there’s something almost gentle in his rough voice. "To certainty. To the version of yourself you understand. Shifting means letting all of that go. Means trusting your body to do something your mind can’t comprehend. That’s what you’re afraid of. Not the shift itself. The surrender."
The words hit me like a physical blow because he’s absolutely right.
That’s exactly what terrifies me about this, the idea of letting go so completely that I don’t know what will happen next, that I can’t predict or control or logic my way through the experience.
I’ve spent my entire life building walls around myself, creating structure and order and predictability, and shifting requires me to tear all of that down and trust that I’ll still exist on the other side.
It’s the ultimate act of faith, and faith has never been my strong suit.
"Okay," I say slowly, trying to process what they’re telling me. "So how do I... how do I let go?"
Jax grins, some of his earlier playfulness returning.
"Want me to show you what it feels like first? Might help to see it before you try it yourself."
"You’re going to shift?" I ask, my heart rate immediately picking up. "Right now?"
I’ve seen this once with Ezra, and that wasn’t pretty. I still hear the sounds as I’m drifting to sleep. That was a shift in anger and frustration, maybe this will be different?
"That’s generally how demonstrations work, yeah," he says, and then his expression softens. "It’s not scary, Frankie. I promise. It’s actually pretty fucking amazing once you get past the initial weirdness."
He steps back, putting some distance between us, and I watch as his entire demeanour changes. The playfulness fades, replaced by something more focused and intense. His breathing deepens, his muscles tensing, and I can see the moment he reaches for his wolf.
It’s not dramatic or violent, there’s no screaming or thrashing or obvious pain. Instead it’s almost graceful, watching someone slip into water. His body begins to change, bones shifting beneath skin, muscles expanding and reforming, and within seconds the man standing in front of me is gone and in his place is the massive golden wolf I’ve seen before.
He’s beautiful.
Now I’ve got time to process without running into the woods and puking my guts up. His fur is the same colour as his hair, that warm golden blonde that catches the light, and his eyes are still those familiar brown depths that hold all of Jax’s warmth and humour. He’s huge, easily the size of a horse, powerful in a way that makes my wolf howl with recognition and longing.
This is what we’re supposed to be. This is what we’re meant to become. He shakes out his fur, then looks at me with what I swear is amusement, and despite my fear I find myself smiling.
"Holy shit," I breathe. "Jax, you’re gorgeous."
The wolf makes a sound that’s almost like a laugh, and then he’s shifting back. The transformation reverses just as smoothly as it began, and within moments Jax is standing in front of me again, completely naked and grinning like he just won the lottery.
"See?" he says, apparently completely unbothered by his nudity. "Not scary. Just different."
"You make it look easy," I tell him, trying not to stare at his dick and failing miserably. "I don’t think mine is going to be that smooth."
"First shifts never are," Leo says from behind me, and I turn to find him watching me with that intense focus that makes me feel like he can see straight through to my bones. "They’re messy. Painful sometimes. But you’re strong enough. Your wolf is strong enough. You just have to trust that."
"Trust," I repeat, the word feeling foreign in my mouth. "Right. Super easy. No problem."
Jax laughs and reaches out to squeeze my shoulder.
"Come on," he says. "Let’s try it. Worst case scenario, nothing happens and we try again tomorrow. Best case scenario, you shift and we go for a run and it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest, and nod.
"Okay," I say. "What do I do?"
