Page 99 of Bitten Shifter

Suppressing a sigh, I concentrate, directing my magic carefully at the cuticle, imagining it growing thicker. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, the nail extends.

“Excellent!” Mary exclaims, her enthusiasm breaking my concentration. The nail snaps back to its usual form.

She grimaces. “Oops! My fault for interrupting. But that was remarkable for a first attempt. Over the next few hours—and tomorrow—keep practising. I’m proud of you, Lark. You really are talented.”

Standing, she moves to a tall shelf lined with books.

“Now, this,” Mary says, reverence in her voice, “is a very special book. Many magic users, if powerful enough, have wands. But the truly exceptional also receive grimoires. I believe this one’s been waiting for you.”

She shuffles back to the table, cradling the volume as if it were priceless treasure, then places it gently before me.

“This grimoire contains a piece of my grandmother’s soul,” she explains, her hand lingering on the cover. “Hatty didn’t want her knowledge passed on to just anyone. When she died, she willed this book to find its way to another technomancer. And here you are.”

Mary pats the book fondly before sliding it towards me. My hand hovers over its surface, sensing the magic radiating from within. There’s no malice, no hidden threat—only a steady, welcoming hum.

“May I pick it up?” I ask, glancing at Mary.

Her eyes sparkle with approval as she nods.

Carefully, I lift the book. It’s heavier than I expected, but the weight is reassuring. The magic tingles up my arm, stirring my technomancer magic in response, as though they are greeting each other.

As I hold it, the weight shifts, becoming lighter in my grasp. A sudden urge to set it on the table overtakes me, so I do. The moment it touches the surface, the cover flips open on its own, and words begin to form on the first blank page:

Hello, Lark.

It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m so excited for us to work together.

Your friend always,

Hatty.

“Oh,” I breathe, staring in awe. “Thank you, Hatty. I’m excited too.”

Mary’s face breaks into a delighted smile. “Indeed. This is wonderful. I knew you were the one. Now, when you return home and you have questions about magic, my grandmother Hatty—and her grimoire—will be there to help you.”

Chapter Forty-Three

After the revelationof the grimoire, Mary—looking a little pale and tired—escorts me to my room.

“You will find it tricky to navigate this place. Even I get lost if I’m not paying attention,” she says with a warm smile as we turn down another corridor that looks exactly like the last one. “So please don’t wander off. I will be back tomorrow, and we can have breakfast together. You have earned a good night’s sleep—it’s been quite a day. It’s been a pleasure teaching you, Lark. I’ve enjoyed myself immensely.”

“Thank you, Mary. You have changed my view of magic for the better. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned. And the grimoire…” I clutch it to my chest, it’s a comforting weight in my arms. “It’s amazing. I promise to take good care of her.”

“I know you will.”

On impulse, I lean in and give her a gentle hug. She stiffens slightly in surprise, then relaxes, patting my back with a quiet chuckle.

“All your things should be in there,” she says, pulling away and pointing to a door. “Your mate was very insistent on you having everything you need. Now I must go and take a nap myself.” She covers a yawn with the back of her hand. “Oh, I’mso tired. It’s awful getting old. Don’t do it,” she laughs, her eyes twinkling with residual amusement.

“Good night, Mary.”

“Good night, my dear.”

I watch her shuffle down the corridor, worry tugging at me. The spark she’d had earlier is gone, replaced by exhaustion. I hope she will be okay.

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked for her help. But then again, I don’t regret it.

Mary is a marvel.

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