“She is about to shift! Oh my god! Quick, let’s help her up. There’s enough space outside to shift!” Annabel shouted, immediately Emma fell to the ground and started twisting like an earthworm that had been dumped in a tray of salt.
Amelia immediately moved, keeping Prescott on the center table. She held Emma by one side, whilst Annabel took up the second position by Emma’s other side.
Emma herself kept cursing the gods for putting her in this situation. Who said she wanted to be a wolf? Or that she wanted to save the world?
The pain racking all over her body idled her brain intermittently, so much so that she lost consciousness of her surroundings sometimes. Other times, she was aware that she was being pushed, mainly by Prescott’s magic, through the hallways, and then to the open air. Amelia and Annabel weren’t doing much, even with their grunts.
She wondered if they were aware that Prescott, even though they had left him inside, was the one actually pushing her. It amused her, right before another spell of pain hit her, blinding her vision.
She wasn’t aware thereafter, of being carried to the yard, past the gates that led to the thick forest, and kept on the grassy forest floor. She wasn’t aware of Prescott teleporting right before her, after Amelia and Annabel had stepped back and shut the gates, which afforded them protection should she go on a rampage whilst shifting. After all, she wasn’t a normal werewolf.
However, her two companions looked on from within the compound, each holding the gate as a lifeline.
Emma wasn’t aware of Prescott cocooning her in a large ball of soothing magic, probably because it had little to no effect on the pain immersing her into its pool.
“Surrender to it, Emma. Let yourself go. Stop fighting it.”
Emma would have cursed Prescott, but for the pain that even muted her voice. However, she listened to him, and let go, thinking that then, the pain will ease. Not at all, it tripled.
Emma gnashed her teeth as she surrendered herself to the ancient call of her lupine nature, her human form melting away like wax beneath the flame.
With a low growl that reverberated through the stillness of the night, Emma’s body began to convulse, muscles rippling beneath her skin as bones twisted and contorted in a primal dance of transformation. Fur erupted from her flesh, a tapestry of white and black that rippled across her form in sinuous waves, each patch a testament to the wildness that coursed through her veins.
Amidst the chaos of her shifting form, a golden crescent blossomed upon her forehead, a radiant emblem of her lineage as a creature of the night. Its luminous glow seemed to pierce the darkness, a beacon of power that marked her as a force to be reckoned with in the untamed expanse of the forest.
But even as Emma’s physical form underwent its metamorphosis, a more subtle transformation was occurring beneath the surface. Across her back, a mighty tattoo materialized-its intricate design reminiscent of a pizza with two slices missing. From her shoulders to her waist, the tattoo sprawled like a map of the cosmos, each line and curve imbued with the arcane wisdom and symbols.
Prescott, a silent witness to her transformation, stood in awe as he beheld the majesty of her new form. With eyes aglow with reverence, he watched as she broke the bounds of the magic cocoon which he had confined her in.
Her wolf was multicolored, white and black patches. Prescott even believed he saw a tendril of gold surrounding the patches.
As Emma’s wolf form rose before Prescott, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within him, a tempest of awe and reverence that threatened to overwhelm his senses. The sight of her, resplendent in her multicolored fur, with the unmistakable marking of a pizza slice tattoo etched upon her shoulder, down to her belly, stirred something within him.
In that moment, he knew with a certainty that resonated deep within his soul-she was the one. The chosen vessel through which the goddess would deliver salvation to their land which was about to be polluted by corrupt power. With the crescent moon emblazoned upon her forehead, she stood as a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness, a symbol of the ancient power that coursed through her veins.
As realization dawned upon him, Prescott felt a surge of humility wash over him, his heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility that had been thrust upon their shoulders. Yet, amidst the tumult of his emotions, there was a sense of profound gratitude-a recognition that in Emma, they had found their savior, their champion against the encroaching darkness.
With a trembling hand, Prescott reached out, his fingers brushing against the air in a silent gesture of reverence.
This was the right time to inform the Queen.
He had closed his mind’s path to the queen for a reason relegated just to instincts, but now, in this moment of revelation, he could deny the truth no longer. With a whispered invocation, he opened himself to the queen’s presence, his voice a soft murmur as he uttered the words that echoed through her mind.
“She is the one,” He whispered, his voice carrying the weight of prophecy and destiny.
In Emma, he saw the culmination of their hopes and dreams, the embodiment of their faith in the face of adversity. And as he gazed upon her radiant form, he knew that together, they would embark upon a journey that would reshape the very fabric of their world.
***
Queen Zipfarah sighed in relief after Prescott communicated that Emma had shifted, successfully. From the awe in his voice, she knew that the redhead had surpassed their expectations.
More reason to get her here. She thought, refusing to call back Daniel and Damon from the mission which she has sent them to. The redhead needed to train.
She couldn’t deny Prescott’s prowess, but seeing as he had shut his mind to her for a while, she couldn’t depend on his total surrender to her anymore. Her twin grandsons were a different story.