Page 35 of A Trial of Fate

I focused on breathing, trying my best to calm the magic raging inside my body, urging me to shed my human skin and embrace my animal. Each second ticked by like an eternity. The heat trickling along my limbs continued to rise, and I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would not shift, but would this fire consume and eventually kill me?

When I didn’t think I could last another second, I felt the brush of ice trickle across my flesh. The cold wind caressed the nape of my neck and sank into my body, magically cooling me from the outside. The breath of cold danced with my blazing fire, creating a balanced, harmonious melody that soothed my soul and my animal’s—our connection mending as the need to shift diminished. I inhaled a deep breath, regaining control of my power once more.

Where did that come from?

I glanced around, searching for the source, but my attention was quickly rerouted.

A magnificent creature of the old folklore slowly stalked toward me, effortlessly wading through the tall grass of the meadow. I froze, my eyes wide in shock at what stood before me. Gasps and murmurs surrounded the field as everyone gawked in disbelief. There was no doubt in my mind who this was, but I never would have guessed this was the animal he would shift into.

Gilen had transformed into a massive roc, with breathtakingly gorgeous golden feathers that looked like rays of sunshine even in the darkness of the night. Long, sharp talons that were as large as my torso curled and gripped the dirt, paired with a deadly sharpened beak that was polished to a fine razor point. His eyes, though… They held the same honey-colored tint of hazel I knew all too well. He rolled his head backward and released an ear-shattering call before spreading his massive wings and lifting himself into the sky.

The roc was a massive legendary bird of prey, rumored to be strong enough to carry animals as large as elephants in its talons. It could fly with the speed of the wind, and its feathers were said to be as resilient as metal armor. The roc could ferry passengers on its back, and in times of need, it was known as the great protector of the skies.

This was Gilen’s animal.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew my childhood friend had shifted into one of the most powerful birds ever to grace the sky. My heart thrummed in my chest as I watched him fly into the night. His song rang out across the land, and all other shifters in their animal forms answered his song with their own. The sound thundered with pure strength, and I knew there was no hiding Gilen’s power or fate now. He would be our next alpha.

Each new shifter who embraced the change into their animal form ran, scampered, or flew around the meadow. Looking around, I could identify a handful of new wolves in the mix, including Rhea, a few new bears, which would please Magnus, a handful of smaller creatures, such as a fox and smaller songbirds, and one very large tiger. I had no idea aside from Rhea and Gilen who was who, but I was overjoyed for each of them.

Regardless of size or strength, every animal brought unique adaptations that would help protect and provide for our pack. The foxshifters might not fight with the bears and wolves along the front lines, but they were excellent spies. The songbirds were amazing at patrolling the borders and carrying messages between the outer regions of the pack lands. Everyone had their purpose and the ability to contribute. That was the way of our people and how we not only survived but thrived.

Still kneeling on the ground, I glanced down at my hands, noticing a red tint coloring my flesh from burn marks that bubbled underneath my skin. I could still feel the cooling touch of the icy breeze, and instead of questioning it, I allowed it to continue caressing my boiling skin. It still hurt like hell, but at least the pain was now tolerable and healing.

More than anything, I wanted to join Rhea running through the forest or Gilen soaring through the skies above. But the call… it wasn’t right. For some reason, my animal refused the alpha’s command to shift.

Footsteps behind me caught my attention as a scarred hand reached out and grasped my shoulder in support. “You all right, Sky?”

“Hey, ya. It was just… a lot.” I sighed, closing my eyes to focus on my breathing as the coldness started to drift away.

“I know. Well, I guess my animal is just as stubborn as yours. I could feel the urge to shift, but, like you, I just wasn’t ready.”

“We can’t force fate,” I replied.

“Ya. Wouldn’t dare fuck with that.” Shaw was quiet for a minute, and I could see sadness lurking in the depths of his eyes. “When I saw you stop the shift, I don’t know how to explain it, but my animal decided to follow your lead.”

I gave him a peculiar look. “I’m beginning to wonder howwise that animal of yours is, Shaw.”

He chuckled lightly to himself. “You and me both. He sure can be a fucking prick when he wants to be, and rarely does he push me to fall in line. I think he is an independent creature by nature.”

I gave Shaw a soft, friendly smile, trying to reassure him that everything would be all right. He was three years older than me, and at the age of twenty-five, our shifter magic was known to reach a peak in its development. No one pressured or questioned why he hadn’t shifted yet, though. Due to his trauma at an early age, a later shift was expected from him.

“They all seem to have a mind of their own,” I teased.

Shaw nodded and gracefully knelt beside me on the ground. I admired a variety of attributes about my close group of friends, but somehow Shaw always knew what I was thinking. He was a great listener, always watching and waiting to react to situations I instinctively jumped into. The ever-calm, quiet, and steady one between the two of us. It was a trait I admired him for and one of the reasons I trusted him.

I looked over at my friend and recognized the same longing in myself reflected in his own expression. His dark hazel eyes were somber yet hard. He was holding back his pain, hiding it from others who didn’t know him, but unfortunately for him, I did.

Shaw reached up to brush his hair out of his face, and I watched the scars along his arms shimmer in the moonlight. The wounds that he bore from his capture and torture by the hunters. The injuries were inflicted before I discovered my magic, or else I would have tried to heal his wounds. I wish I could heal them now, but I knew the scars were deeper than the surface of his skin.

“You all right, Shaw?” His firm nod ofyeswas all I was going to get, and I was in no condition to push for more.

“You know what this means, right?” Shaw abruptly stood and extended a hand to help me get on my feet. “The high queen could choose one of us for the trials.”

The truth of his words hit me like a cold, hard punch to the face.

I frantically looked around to assess who was remaining in the meadow that hadn’t shifted. Shaw and I were the oldest of the group, but that wasn’t a guarantee for our selection. I grimaced, unable to stomach the thought of Shaw or any of my pack members being forced to leave. If everything they said was true, no shifter had survived these trials. This was practically a suicide mission for whoever would go, but we all knew… the wilt would eventually consume us all.

Our world was dying, and only a shifter could save it.

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