Chapter 63 The Warning Signs
I stared at the blank screen where the message had been.
Your wolf genes are activating. Should happen within six months.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Six months. Half a year before everything changed. Before I became something I didn’t understand.
“Elowen.” Lycian’s voice cut through the panic. “What did it say?”
I showed him the empty screen. “That my wolf genes are activating. Within six months. Then the message deleted itself.”
His jaw tightened. Gold flickered in his eyes. “They’re trying to scare you.”
“What if they’re not lying?” My voice came out too high. Too thin. “What if it’s true? I don’t know how to be a wolf. I don't know how to shift. What if I hurt someone?”
“Then we prepare.” He pulled me against his chest. His heartbeat was steady under my ear. “Dr. Rivera can help. Run tests. Figure out what’s happening.”
“She studies genetics. Not shifting. Not whatever the Collective designed my mother to be.” I pushed away from him. Started pacing. “This is different. I’m different.”
“You’re still you. Wolf genes or not.” He caught my wrist. Stopped me mid-step. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Through the bond, I felt his determination. Solid. Unshakeable. Like an anchor in a storm.
I wanted to believe him.
That night, sleep didn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the lab from my mother’s files. Children behind glass. Being studied like specimens.
Around three AM, I slipped out of bed while Lycian snored softly. Went to the kitchen for water.
My reflection caught in the dark window. For a second, my eyes looked brighter. Almost silver.
I blinked. Normal brown eyes stared back.
Just stress. Just my imagination.
The next morning, Dr. Rivera arrived before breakfast. Lycian had called her at dawn.
She set up in Thaddeus’s office. Vials. Needles. Machines I didn’t recognize.
“Let’s see what’s happening.” She tied the tourniquet around my arm. “This will tell us if activation has started.”
The needle pinched. Blood flowed into the vial. Three tubes. Cotton pressed to my arm.
“How long for results?”
“A few hours. Pay attention to your body. Any changes, no matter how small.”
After she left, I started a list on my phone.
Possible activation symptoms:
\- Trouble sleeping
\- Weird reflection in window (probably nothing)
\- Everything smells stronger this morning
I paused. Read the last one again. Everything did smell stronger. The coffee brewing downstairs. Lycian’s soap from the shower. Even the faint scent of pine from outside.
Was that normal? Or was it starting?
Lycian found me staring at my phone.
“Tracking symptoms. Dr. Rivera said to write down anything unusual.” I showed him the list. “Do you think a stronger smell means it’s starting?”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just paying more attention because you’re worried.” He sat beside me. “Try not to overthink it.”
That afternoon, Dr. Rivera called. Her voice was tight.
“The results are back. Can you come to my office?”
“I’d rather discuss this in person. Bring Lycian.”
We drove to campus in silence. Lycian’s hand gripped mine the whole way.
“Your hormone levels are elevated,” she said. “Your DNA shows increased activity in the dormant wolf markers.”
“So it’s true. The activation is starting.”
“Yes.” She pulled up charts. “I estimate you’ll experience your first shift within eight to twelve weeks. Possibly sooner.”
“What happens during the first shift?”
“Pain. Significant pain as your body transforms. But it’s temporary.”
“And after?”
“You’ll need to learn control. I can monitor the physical changes. The rest will require help from experienced wolves.”
“I’ll teach her,” Lycian said. “And my father.”
Dr. Rivera handed me pills. “For the pain. Call me if anything concerning happens.”
“Like what?”
“Uncontrolled shifts. Aggression. Loss of consciousness.” She met my eyes. “This is uncharted territory.”
The drive back felt longer.
“Eight weeks,” I said. “That’s not much time.”
“It’s enough,” Lycian said. “We’ll start training tomorrow.”
That night, the dreams started.
Running through darkness. Faster than my legs should carry me. The ground flying past beneath paws instead of feet. Wind in my fur. The moon is bright overhead.
Freedom. Pure and absolute.
Then the scene shifted. I was in a cage. Glass walls on all sides. Scientists watching. Taking notes. My mother is in the next cage. Screaming for them to let me out.
I woke up gasping. Sheets soaked with sweat. Heart racing.
Lycian was already awake. Holding me. “Another nightmare?”
“I was a wolf. Running. Then trapped. They were watching me.” I couldn’t catch my breath. “It felt so real.”
“It was just a dream. Your mind is processing the news.”
“What if it wasn’t? What if it were a memory? Something inherited from my mother?” I pulled away from him. Needed space. Needed air. “The Collective created her. They have her memories. Her DNA. What if they embedded something in her genes? Something that activates with the shift?”
“You’re spiraling.”
“What if I’m right?” I stood. Worried. “They said I was always meant to be theirs. What if the activation triggers something? Makes me loyal to them? Under their control?”
“That’s not possible.”
“You don’t know that. Nobody knows what they’re capable of.” My voice rose. Panic clawing up my throat. “I could shift and become exactly what they designed me to be. A weapon. A tool.”
“Elowen. Stop.” He was in front of me. Hands on my shoulders. Forcing me to look at him. “You’re not a weapon. You’re not a tool. You’re my wife. My mate. And no genetic programming can change that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I feel you through the bond. All of you. There’s nothing artificial. Nothing controlled. Just you.” His eyes blazed gold. “The Collective doesn’t own you. They never will.”
I wanted to believe him. Desperately.
But doubt whispered louder than hope.
Over the next week, the symptoms intensified.
Everything smelled stronger. I could hear conversations from three rooms away. My eyesight sharpened until I could read text from across the room.
My body temperature climbed another degree. I was always too hot. Threw off blankets at night. Wore light clothes despite the autumn chill.
And the pain started. Dull ache in my bones. Like growing pains but worse. Constant. Exhausting.
Dr. Rivera increased my pain medication. It barely helped.
“Your body is preparing for the shift,” she explained during a check-up. “Building the structures needed for transformation. It’s going to hurt until it happens.”
“How much worse will it get?”
“Significantly. I won’t lie to you.” She made notes in my file. “But once you shift the first time, subsequent shifts will be easier. Less painful.”
Small comfort when every movement felt like my bones might snap.
Lycian started training me. Nothing intense. Just teaching me to recognize the wolf inside. To feel her presence.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed one afternoon in the estate’s gym. “Breathe deep. Look inward.”
I tried. Searched inside myself for something else. Something animal.
Found nothing.
“This isn’t working.”
“You’re trying too hard. Stop searching. Just feel.” His voice was patient. Calm. “The wolf isn’t separate from you. She’s part of you. Always has been.”
I breathed. Let my mind go quiet. Stopped forcing it.
And felt something. Small. Distant. Like a second heartbeat buried deep.
“There’s something there,” I whispered. “I feel it.”
“That’s your wolf. Don’t push. Don’t pull. Just acknowledge her.”
The presence shifted. Aware. Curious. Then slipped away like smoke.
“She’s scared,” I said. Opening my eyes. “I can feel her fear.”
“Of course she is. She’s been dormant your whole life. Waking up is probably terrifying for her too.” Lycian touched my hand. “Be patient. She’ll come when she’s ready.”
But patience was hard when pain radiated through my bones. When sleep came in broken pieces. When every day brought new symptoms that reminded me I was running out of time.
Seven weeks after Dr. Rivera’s diagnosis, I woke to agony.
Not the dull ache I’d grown used to. Sharp. Intense. Like my bones were trying to break through my skin.
I screamed before I could stop myself.
Lycian was up instantly. Calling Dr. Rivera. Trying to comfort me while I writhed in pain.
She arrived within twenty minutes. Examined me quickly. Her expression was grave.
“It’s happening sooner than I thought. You’re going into first shift.” She pulled out her phone. “We need to get her somewhere safe. Contained. Before the shift completes.”
“The training room,” Lycian said. “Padded. Reinforced. She can’t hurt herself there.”
They carried me downstairs. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through my body.
The training room was cold. Sterile. Padded walls and reinforced doors. Built for wolves who needed to practice control.
They laid me on mats in the center. Dr. Rivera started an IV. Pain medication. Fluids. Things to help my body through what was coming.
“How long?” I managed through gritted teeth.
“Hours. Maybe less.” She checked my vital signs. “Try to relax. Fighting it makes it worse.”
Relax. While my body tore itself apart.
The pain intensified. Bones shifting under my skin. Muscles stretching. Everything is changing.
Then suddenly. Everything stopped.
Not the pain. The world.
Time froze. Lycian mid-motion. Dr. Rivera’s mouth opened mid-word. Everything is suspended.
A voice spoke. Not out loud. Inside my head.
Finally awake. Took you long enough, sister.