Val woke with a start. She lay paralyzed for a few moments, limbs intact at her sides but dreadfully unresponsive. Her throat was dry and hoarse like she'd been screaming, but as she tried, no sound came out. She was glad, though, because those few seconds were enough to find her bearings.

She had been happy the first day she woke up without a nightmare plaguing her thoughts. She thought her body might have finally started to adjust, and that her mind had somehow cleared. She knew what she was, she knew what she'd become, and she knew where her home would be from then on.

She had no idea how much worse it could get.

Her head was still fuzzy with terror, mind replaying everything over and over.

She hadn't been able to move there either; couldn't utter a sound. She'd just laid there while they were fighting around her — wolves, with eyes unlike anything she'd ever seen before, and sickly-looking ones that somehow seemed to be overpowering them.

She remembered how one broke off from the fight; slowly dragging its powerful body toward her. It had collapsed a few feet away, another wolf crushing it with its weight but still reaching for her. As if she was the only thing that mattered.

And as she watched it writhe and struggle and growl in such painful rage, something snapped. But nothing happened.

In her mind she was yelling; fighting over a hold neither visible nor one she could defeat. But she had fought. Αnd as the wolf with the red eyes looked down from above her, she thought she had done enough.

Eyes dreadful and hopeless of blue and yellow regarded her with a silent promise. One of blood and suffering beyond anything they'd ever experienced.

And as she was ripped apart, mouth open wide in agony but soundless, she thought she believed it.

Daphne knocked on the door softly and poked her head in.

"Breakfast?" she asked with a silly smile. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted through the room.

"There had better be two platters on the table," she grumbled, the slight smile on her face completely contradicting her.

"If you don't hurry I might start picking at your pile," Daphne tutted, closing the door behind her.

Her limbs felt like lead when she got up; head a painful, pulsing thing. She took a few minutes to just stare at herself in the mirror, fighting against the urge to hug herself and claw her skin off. Every move had a distant ache to it, like her bones were made of bamboo sticks and it was only a matter of time before they snapped.

This was the day.

She would either shift to her wolf or die trying and frankly, the second option didn't sound nearly as appealing.

Her eyes felt dry, like she hadn't blinked in a while. She pressed her nails in her fists, afraid that they'd sprung out without her meaning them to, and she gritted her teeth when they started to push down.

She wanted to scream, if only because she could. But Daphne's face flashed in her mind; with that silly smile and trying so hard not to let anything else show.

So she could do it too. She would.

The worst of it hadn't even started yet.

Val found the most comfortable clothes in her closet and quickly got dressed before going down the stairs. She flopped on the chair, giving Daphne a big smile and fighting a wince as she grabbed the fork and dug in.

"I was thinking..." Daphne pointed with her fork while munching on her pancakes, a much smaller pile than her own. "It's been a while since we kicked back and spent the day binge-watching movies—"

"Will there be ice cream involved?" Val asked immediately.

"And pizza. If you want." Her face lit up.

So they sat down on that lovely couch and didn't get up for anything other than the necessities — food.

Fortunately, as was usual, all new shifters were allowed to be absent for a few days before and after their shift. So fighting and eating had become an excellent distraction. Along with her friends, scarcely.

"Are you doing this because you think I'm going to die?" Val had asked after a few hours and a couple more pizzas. The question had been at the tip of her tongue constantly, torturing her.

Did she not believe in her?

Daphne had stilled then, with eyes as wide as their morning pancakes, and a piece of chocolate hovering over an open mouth.

"No!" she'd blurted, choking on her spittle. There was a sigh. "I'm just scared," she said softer, "but there's nothing I believe you couldn't do if you ever put your mind to it. So, no. I don't think you're going to die." And she said it with such conviction, that she almost believed it. But Val thought she might've been trying to convince herself as much as she did her.

"How about downing another pizza?" Val finally asked. "My mind's pretty into it."

Daphne blinked, and then she snickered. "Werewolves and their food," she muttered lowly, passing her the other box and knowing full well what she was doing.

It was movie day — their day. Continuing to talk about that would only ruin it. And she wouldn't let all the 'maybe's' ruin them.

Walking to the gym had certainly killed the mood.

They'd forgone taking the car, content with those last few moments of peace they had left. Daphne barely talked, and Val could feel eyes at the back of her head. There was some encouragement from those waiting to let their wolves out; waiting for the pack run. The excitement was rubbing off on her too as they whooped and gave encouraging smiles at everyone in their way.

She considered her life from then on. How they would all be a family, even though she didn't know them as well; there would be a bond keeping them together. They would fight and die for each other as the bond grew and she knew, even before the shift, that she would give up everything for a place to call her home.

If she survived the shift.

The itching had died down, and she walked freely along the muddy road, for once not afraid that her wolf might rip from her skin right there and then. She felt at peace. It was a pity she knew it wouldn't last long.

"When will it start?" she murmured, watching the sky darken.

"It's different for everyone." Daphne gulped. "But it usually starts about two hours before midnight — before the moon is at its peak."

Val hummed, thinking about the previous one; when she almost jumped the Alpha. And Zack; the first time he shifted in front of her. It had seemed so easy for him then, so painless. She wouldn't entertain the thought by thinking it might be as easy for her.

She could still recall all the times she woke up from the pain; skin bloodied and bruised. She would feel every one of her bones break, and she was expected to do it again and again afterward until it became second nature.

"What will happen to me?" she whispered.

Daphne pursed her lips. "I've only seen it happen a few times, but it always starts with a fever. Like when it's time for a baby's teeth to spring out. I guess calling you a brat has base after all, huh?" It was a poor attempt at a joke; Val didn't speak. She cleared her throat. "Then your bones start to shift as time passes. There's a sting, a sort of mix between burning and being stuck with needles everywhere. You'll feel like your nails and teeth are being pulled out, and—"

"I get it," Val cut in, her voice barely a whisper.

They remained silent for the rest of the way and no chirpy werewolf helped her mood.

She wasn't ready. She was going to die.

There were more people at the gym when they arrived. Mothers, she guessed; fathers; siblings. They stayed outside when Val pushed through the doors.

"How are you feeling?" Zack asked once they reached him.

"So far so good." She shrugged.

"We'll be okay." Sam slapped a hand to her shoulder. She hadn't even seen them approach; couldn't look at them and smile like she'd been doing all day.

With a firm nod, she turned back to Zack. "So how are we doing this?"

The shifters would be separated and cared for by the teachers and any available vampires, each with buckets of water, ice, and shots of adrenaline for the extreme cases. Zack had double the amount poking through his pockets. Comforting.

So they sat there; cross-legged and waiting.

The fever started slowly, bodies rising in temperature. They were made to lay down as the uncomfortable heat turned to full-on sweating.

"Strip," Zack said slowly, and Val turned to find everyone else already pulling their clothes off. "You'll tear through it anyway," he added for her sake, "and you won't like it sticking to your body, trust me."

She nodded and carefully pulled her clothes off. Nudity was common in werewolves, she repeated in her head, and no one paid attention to that when bones were about to poke through skin. She laid back down, hands covering as much of herself as she could. Her wolf stirred, giving off a sense of amusement. Val told her to shut it.

Daphne put a wet cloth on her forehead when she started panting; cheeks red and body swirling around in search of a cold spot.

"Deep breaths." She heard from somewhere around her. Damian dumped a pack of ice in the bucket. She could faintly see Ian hovering over Sam a few feet away, Alex doing the same for Erik. Damian had stayed by her side, dumping cold water on her every now and then as Daphne helped freeze the buckets and Zack moved from body to body.

Her body caught on fire. She gasped, mouth open wide in desperate breaths as she watched the people around her. She heard a snap, then another. But none were from her or her friends.

The itching returned but not quite the same. It was more of a numbing sensation that covered her.

Erik and Sam were on their backs, the water pooling around their weight on the mattress whenever Alex or Ian dumped it on them. With a flick of Daphne's fingers, it was gone.

The world spun, and Val joined the chorus of grunts and groans in the room.

"It's going to be okay," Daphne whispered, brows drawn in.

Someone screamed; more bones cracked.

"Bring another bucket!" Someone yelled.

"I need a shot!"

Daphne held her hand while Damian poured more water on her. She felt a tingle and screamed. It felt like thousands of needles were sticking in her body, almost like when she turned the shower to hot and her skin prickled with the temperature. But it was no pleasure she felt.

She liked that heat, relished in it; now she just wanted to rip her skin off.

"Fur," Damian croaked, by way of explanation.

She didn't know for how long she'd stayed in that position when her arm cracked and twisted at an awkward angle. She roared, sobbing through sweat and tears. Her wolf snapped at the air in her mind.

"Help me," she begged. "Please—"

The screams melted together. She thought she heard Erik cry out; Sam sobbing. She hugged the broken hand to her chest and reached over with the other but they were too far.

Damian grabbed it instead and passed a cloth over it before switching the one on her forehead. Daphne dumped some of the water on her and caressed her cheeks with her fingers.

"It's going to be okay," she stuttered.

Something cracked in her chest, and the first howl echoed through the walls. Val whizzed in her breaths, trembling with each intake. She tried to turn her head enough to see who made it; who was the first to shift and stop their body from breaking any longer. But Zack crouched over her, limiting her line of vision.

She thought she screamed again when she felt it in her legs, her back; but she couldn't hear past the roaring of her pulse in her ears. She coughed furiously, blood splattering around her.

"It's internal," someone rushed. Her eyelids grew heavy. "She needs a shot!"

She felt a sting at her thigh, then her eyes sprung open and her body convulsed with energy. She cried out, bones twisting and breaking and grinding with each other. Oxygen rushed back into her lungs. She felt something heal over, just as something else broke.

"Breathe," rasped Zack, palms at her temples.

She cried, head whipping from side to side like a child on a tantrum. She stared around her. There were fewer people now than before. Time moved without her awareness; seconds melted to minutes and minutes thawed to hours; days. She couldn't tell how long had passed. To her left, Erik was on his stomach, fur covering the majority of his body as his jaw cracked and pushed forward. She wondered for how long it had been going on when she noticed a wolf with strawberry red fur standing between them, panting and whining.

Sam.

She was breathtaking. Her eyes glowed brighter than she'd ever seen them before, jumping from joy to worry to sympathy. Her fur looked silky soft, and all she wanted to do was run her hands through it. Ian stared at her open-mouthed at her side, awed. He furrowed his brows and started to walk toward them when Zack stopped him.

Erik rose in his whole glory. Dark brown fur matted with sweat and blood, eyes wild and canines ready to shred through flesh. He whined when Val shrieked through her teeth, and she realized she was the last shifter left.

"Join the run," Zack called before they could get too close. They tilted their heads, lips curling back in irritation. Zack snarled, repeating the order, and they craned their necks to their sides, submitting. They trotted out with a solemn look.

Her wolf snarled and clawed in her mind, furious at their treatment.

Val looked down at herself, fighting through her sobs. There was some fur, but nowhere near the rest. A panicked expression passed through her face when she saw the state her legs were in, and she lurched to the side, the pain unbearable as she emptied the contents of her stomach into one of the buckets.

Damian pushed her hair out of her face. "Why is it taking so long?" he asked.

Daphne and Zack looked at each other briefly before he brought his hands to her shoulders.

"Listen to me, Val. I need you to let her out, can you do that? Imagine your wolf in your head and let the change take over. Let her take over." His mouth was trembling, eyes glazed over.

"I can't," she sobbed. "Just kill me — please just kill me."

"Stop it damn it!" Damian hollered, hands at either side of her head. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on her cheeks. "You can do this. Now let that damn wolf take over." She looked at him through her tears. She could see how his brows were furrowed, as if in agony, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes but couldn't be sure through her own.

She shrieked as her back arched and she lurched on her belly, her wailing loud in her ears. Her fingers stretched, then retracted. Her jaw broke and thrust forward, teeth forcing themselves out and nails shredding the mattress underneath them.

"Let go," she heard one of them repeat.

Her ears stretched upward, and her eyes clouded over.

Her elbow twisted and reattached. Her feet broke and lengthened as if pulled from either side. Val screamed through gritted teeth, eyes closed shut in anguish.

"Let go." Echoed in her head, but it was her own voice that spoke it. Her wolf nudged her mind.

Val let go.

She gave her everything. Her mind. Her body.

Everything grew hazy, and the pain dulled in her head. Ever-present but somehow dull. Until it finally stopped. Everything stopped.

She stood on shaky legs. Powerful from under her, but in no way under control.

She opened her eyes to see her friends — her family — look up at her with wide grins and tears in their eyes. Her head dropped, and she looked at the ground; at the remnants of the mattress; at her legs.

Her paws.