Gilly and Duggar were right, though. It hurts. With my human body so crooked and bent, my muscles and bones scream with agony when I try to shift. My back aches as the wings attempt to bypass the thick scar tissue built upon them from repeated carvings into my flesh. Pain stabs and pierces through my legs as the magic tries to heal me instead of shift. If I concentrate on that, though, it will only end in sorrow. My body is meant to remain a little broken. They didn’t break the strongest part of me. My spirit is still intact. The broken pieces do not define me. They make me stronger. In time, our enemies will realize that.
When regular shifters change, it’s relatively dull. Their bodies shudder and shimmer with magic; only the most inexperienced shifters feel pain or face difficulties. The agony bites me, my nerves crawl like fire ants under the skin of my legs, and my back feels as if it’s cracking open. Tears leak from my closed eyes. My vision blackens and fades as the worst of the pain floods through me, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I’m hunched over with pain as the three men hover anxiously, but I can’t offer them any comfort. They can’t help me. Kodi’s strange magic might have assisted, but he’s gone and death stole his magic. I borrow a sliver of the library’s power to quicken the shift. Sage, a combination of the compiled magic and wisdom of my ancestors, helps my body merge into a form it hasn’t taken in years.
When I come to, it’s by degrees. The first thing I notice is that I’m lower to the ground. Next, my enhanced senses assault me. Avery’s unique smell I’ve repeatedly tried to identify is jasmine. Bren smells like the sky before a storm and the wind through the trees, comforting and wild.
Garrett is spicy and musky, the odor of something feline under his human form that my cat wants to inspect more closely. Remembering the ominous howl and imagining Kodi’s last minutes, I’m grateful that he isn’t a wolf like his father. He isn’t his father, I remind myself again.
Under the shifter’s scent of spicy musk is compassion. I cling to it. If anyone were to ask what compassion smelled like, I would say it smells like the sun - the warm embrace of a summer day with no cares and love all around. Or maybe a wood fire - cozy nights and snow falling outside. I suppose there’s no single description for it, and I wonder if my particular comparisons come from those years I still can’t remember, before I was captured. Did I feel compassion then? I must have at some point. Kodi was the only other being to show me kindness.
The books smell like ink, paper, and possibilities. The library itself smells of magic and home. I hear every small creak of wood and the heartbeats of the men. My spine shivers as I shake out my new body, and I twist my head to look at the glorious wings…my wings…that protrude from my furry back. Larger ears twitch upon my head. My mouth is full of teeth that are sharper than usual. I run my tongue across the tip of one experimentally, surprised at the lethality of the points.
And my legs. I look down to where I’m sitting on my haunches. One is stretched out to the side because I can’t fold it properly beneath me. The bottom of the leg is still crooked, but as I bring myself to all fours and attempt to put pressure on them, elation flows through me. I can walk. It might be with a limp and might become painful after a day or so of being somewhat upright, but I can walk; four legs are evidently better than two. Freedom pours through me at the thought. The animal in me wants to run and stretch out muscles I haven’t used in too long.
Remembering the urgency of the situation, I force my attention to the moment. The men surround me, their eyes wide. Bren is the first to recover, his pale eyes warm with pleasure and fascination. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. My cat preens at the praise. As my shoulders lift, I realize my breasts are fairly visible. I should be ashamed, but the shifter part of me lords over the human in that aspect. The fur of my lion form stretches all the way to my neck and onto my jaw. It covers my breasts almost like a shirt. I don’t feel as naked as I thought I might.
“He’s right. You’re magnificent,” Garrett breathes. His beast is curious but not frightened, and he’s not trying to alpha me, which is good. I don’t think I could let anyone dominate me, not until I feel like I have my emotions under control and am far away from my horrid memories.
“I wish I could see you,” Avery whispers. His beautiful quicksilver eyes are wide with awe as if he can sense there’s a change. I prowl toward him, the hitch in my gait noticeable but manageable. My short fur rubs along his legs, my shifter subconsciously covering him with my scent. His pale hand strokes my back, carefully skimming over the thick feathers tucked against my body. He caresses my hair as well; my braid trails along my back, nestled between the protrusions of my wings.
I want to lie down and let him pet me.
“Sphinxes are not just shifters,” I manage to say after a couple failed attempts of trying to speak around my altered teeth. “We are magic.” I feed him an image of a sphinx - not myself, because I haven’t properly examined my form, but of Sage. “This is the form my ancestors take,” I explain when he gasps and nearly pulls away from me. “The image I’m sending you isn’t me, but it’s close.”
Avery’s perfect lips tilt into a wistful, awed smile. “I would like to see you one day,” he murmurs, his voice thick with reverence and wonder.
“Once I see myself, I can modify the image I send.”
“How?” Garrett asks simply.
I shrug; the gesture is strange with my leonine shoulders. “Magic,” I whisper, fully aware that my smile is predatory when I flash my sharp teeth at him. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, I can tell by the spark in his eyes and the shift in his scent that this form appeals to his beast, even if I’m not the same species. Wild calls to wild.
The library nudges me, its wishes clearer now that I’ve tapped into my power. “I have to protect our home. Stay here.”
“Zosia,” Garrett begins again, an objection ready on his lips. I turn my head and growl at him, the movement so instinctive that it happens without thought.
“I’m the only one that can do this,” I inform him in a softer tone. This I know, as clearly as if I were able to divine the future like Bren. The younger brother nods.
“She’s right. We haven’t been gifted with the full power of the library yet.”
The library’s knowledge of one way to gift them with their full power makes my cheeks flame with embarrassment and primal desire. I shove aside the images and turn away from my guardians. My legs are strong despite the limp. My upper body aids me, my forelegs straight and powerful.
Despite my resolve, my skin shivers with apprehension when I breach the foyer and encounter the power emanating from outside. Addington is a commanding figure; there’s a reason he’s alpha of our country. But he doesn’t rule me. Sphinxes aren’t burdened by pack rules because they’re solitary and strange hybrid creatures. My faith in the library drives me onward and thrusts the fear to a place it can’t affect me so that I can walk proudly through the doors that she helpfully opens for me. I decide from now on that the library will be called Sage, for they live within each beam and plank.
The men stand in a row, although Ansel is off to the side, looking drawn and weary. Sage gifts me with the burden being interim keeper had on him, and I resolve to make it right in some way. I don’t need more guardians, but I can offer him something else if he’s willing.
I focus on my real enemies. I still don’t know what Walthers’ part is, but he’s not my immediate concern. I turn my attention to the broad, heavily-muscled man in the middle. He stands with his legs spread apart as if he owns the land under his feet.
“So, the kitty cat has found her claws,” Addington drawls. His voice is cultured and careful, but I sense his agitation. He’d hoped I’d be an easy conquest; he’d hoped that he’d broken me entirely.
I ignore his words and sink back onto my haunches, instinctively hiding my weakness from their curious eyes. “The library is closed.” The tone of my voice remains smooth despite the pounding of my heart against my ribs.
My lip curls, revealing a flash of pointed teeth. “They don’t belong to you anymore. In fact, I’d wager they haven’t belonged to you for some time…maybe ever.”
My words annoy him. He’d hoped his own progeny would be easily controlled, but he ruined any chance of that when he chose to treat Bren poorly. It’s unclear where Garrett learned his compassion, but it saved both boys from following in their father’s footsteps.
“I demand that you return my sons to me! You cannot keep them here. They’re wild and powerful. They need more than a broken guardian can provide.” His sneer makes my wings ruffle with agitation. I ignore the stabbing pain in my chest that whispers he might be right. It will take more than one shift to overcome every insecurity I’ve nurtured over the years, but I refuse to let this monster see he’s hit a nerve.
I raise one shoulder in a careless shrug. “They don’t belong to you either. They need more than a broken man can provide.”
Addington takes a step forward, and the gargoyles bristle. Stone scrapes on stone as their eyes flash with sudden life. Walthers almost stumbles backward before he catches himself, and something passes through Addington’s gaze. It’s not fear, because he’s too proud to conjure such an emotion, but frustration. He knows he will leave here with nothing…today.
“I am not broken,” he growls, his wolf bristling just under his skin.
I raise a forepaw and act like I’m inspecting my nails. It isn’t all an act. They’re remarkably sharp and lethal. They could tear a man in two. I’m not burdened by bloodlust, but it comforts me to know that I can protect myself and my guardians.
“Are you sure?” I ask simply. “Not every flaw is visible to the eyes.”
Addington growls again, but it’s ineffectual. He can’t fight the might of the library today. “I will come back for my sons, Sphinx,” he warns. I open my mouth to respond, but he gets the last word in. "And tell that worthless ghost I still have his sister, just in case he gets any misguided notions of revenge.”
I hide my shock - just barely, or maybe not enough, because Addington turns away with a little grin of triumph. Walthers must have told him about Kodi. The liaison turns away with a similar smile. Ansel approaches but doesn’t touch the bottom step.
“I knew you could do it, Zosia,” he states confidently. He bows in respect and starts to leave, but my words stop him.
“Ansel.” He meets my gaze. “I know what you’ve sacrificed to protect us. When the library opens, I’d like to see you reimbursed for your troubles.” His brow lifts in surprise, but he merely nods and turns away. He’s already resolved to die. I hope he can hold out until term starts, at least. I’ll offer him as much as my power allows.
Sage settles now that the threat has passed. I pad back to my three guardians, keenly feeling the absence of the one who has always been with me. He has a choice to make between revenge or choosing to start a new life in his afterlife. I survived my memories, but I’m not sure I’ll survive if he never returns. I owe him everything, and a piece of me will never recover.
Until he decides, though, the four of us will prepare for the danger Addington presents - not just to us, but to the supernatural and human worlds. Whatever he’s doing with the magic he steals will only end in catastrophe. Someone needs to stop him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kodi
I hide from Zo’s awareness, but the words that spew from the monster’s mouth almost shock me into revealing myself. My sister is still alive. Is she anything more than a shell? That’s all she was the last time I saw her. My father took everything from her: her magic, her sanity, her humanity. I swore to my mother I’d protect her, but I chose to protect the little sphinx instead. I avoided passing on entirely because I still owed her a debt.
I’m still reeling from the onslaught of memories. I don’t know how much Zo remembers, but I remember every second. My body bows under the weight of the atrocities I committed in an attempt to keep my sister alive. They cycle through my brain, occasionally shocking me with something I’d forgotten, something I would have liked to never remember.
Zosia doesn’t know what my father and Addington were doing with the supernaturals. She might have an idea, but she couldn’t possibly know the extent to which the danger exists. She also doesn’t realize that I’m unnatural. My magic was specially created in-utero using stolen power; I was created specifically for catching and trapping shifters. For years, I did so without regret, believing it was the only way I could protect my sister. When Zo arrived, I could no longer stand by and ignore my conscience. She was just a child. She called to something greater within me. I knew if I didn’t protect her, more than just my family would suffer. The world needs her, and I understood the weight of her importance the moment I saw her.
But she doesn’t know that her mother and father died because of me or that my magic enabled her capture. I didn’t act until it was too late, and she would forever be crippled because of me. Her sphinx form is glorious, reviving memories of her as a little lion, growling, hissing, and spitting angrily even when she wasn’t any bigger than a housecat.
Garrett and Bren present another confusing difficulty. Addington wanted to breed the older brother and Zo. The father’s plan might still happen, regardless of whether he’d orchestrated it or not. I see the way she looks at her three guardians. It’s only a matter of time before they become more than friends, and she won’t survive if they betray her or if Addington finds a way to steal any child born of magic. The library will also suffer significantly. With the whole of supernatural history and the repository of information weakened, it could be controlled or destroyed. The races won’t recover from the loss of the ancient magic.
Do I care anymore? I committed more harm in my life than I could ever hope to absolve, and I don’t expect Zo to forgive me. If she still lives, I don’t expect my sister to forgive me. Zosia might consider herself broken, but she’s whole and full of life compared to my insubstantial existence. She deserves better. She deserves someone that can help her, and I can’t protect her from things I can’t touch.
Some part of me always hoped that when Zo found her form, I’d find mine too. But I remain a ghost, helpless and useless. She needs a guardian that can fight for her, and I’m not him. I might never be.
About the Author
Serena has been writing stories since she was in second grade. Words, books, and stories have always fascinated her. She wrote her first novel when she was twelve and has been writing nonstop since then. It’s only recently that she’s started sharing her stories with the world.
Her favorite genres to read and write include Fantasy (Paranormal, Urban, Sword and Sorcery, Dystopian, etc.), Romance (New Adult, Contemporary, Reverse Harem, Menage, etc.), Sci-fi, and anything else that catches her fancy. Almost all of her books portray characters that push the boundaries of sexuality, gender identity, ableism, and nontraditional relationships.
Serena currently lives in Upstate New York in a developing intentional community. She believes in true love, multiple soul matches, the beauty of starry nights, and the power of touch. She’d love to connect with you on social media!
Also By Serena Lindahl
Soul Tenders Reverse Harem
Pieces of Her Soul
Echoes of Her Soul
Harmony of Their Souls
Soul Charmers Reverse Harem
Charming the Flames
Fanning the Flames (coming soon)
Contemporary Reverse Harem
Lost & Found
Magitech Polyamorous Urban Fantasy
Worlds Collide
Magic’s Divide
Enemies Allied (coming soon)
Novellas
Finders Keepers - an RH novella from Lost and Found, published in “Between the Pages 2” Anthology
Dream My Way - an RH novella published in “Leaving Eden” Anthology
Frequency - a polyamorous novella
published in “Apocalypse” Anthology (coming soon)
Writing as Reyna Orrisan - Dark Reverse Harem
Emotional
Physical (coming soon)
Broken Destiny Page 21