Liliam
I woke up to the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, my body feeling heavy and disoriented. Something was off, though. The familiar warmth of Shadow curled beside me was missing. Instead, I felt a different presence, small and solid, lying close against my side.
I blinked, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, and turned to see who—or what—was next to me. My breath caught in my throat, and I nearly screamed but clapped a hand over my mouth just in time.
There, where Shadow usually slept, was a small child, no more than twelve years old. He was curled up like a worm, his black, messy hair falling over his petite face, with strands of silver woven through the dark locks. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and I could see faint bruises marring his ribs.
My mind raced, struggling to make sense of what I was seeing. "Sh-Shadow?" I whispered weakly, my voice barely a breath. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a drum of confusion and fear.
The child stirred at the sound of my voice, his eyes slowly fluttering open. They were a deep, familiar brown—the same as Shadow's. A bright smile spread across his face as he looked at me, pure joy lighting up his eyes. "Ma," he said in a sweet, raspy voice, but then he froze, startled by the sound that came out of his own mouth.
His gaze dropped to his arms, which were supporting his weight as he sat up, and I watched as his eyes widened in shock and wonder. "I have fingers?!" he exclaimed, holding up his small hands and wiggling his fingers like they were a new, fascinating toy.
I could only stare, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to find words. This couldn't be real. I had to be dreaming. But as I watched him, the child—Shadow?—marvel at his own hands, reality came crashing down on me like a wave.
"What… what happened to you?" I finally managed to ask, my voice trembling.
He turned to me, his smile still bright but tinged with a bit of confusion. "I don't know, Ma," he replied, the raspy edge to his voice softening. "I just… I woke up like this."
I swallowed hard, my mind whirling with questions. I reached out cautiously, my hand hovering over his head before gently brushing his hair back. "Are you… are you okay?"
He nodded eagerly, his eyes still wide with wonder. "I feel… different. But not bad," he said, as if testing the words on his tongue.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This was Shadow—my Shadow. Somehow, he had transformed into this little boy. My hand moved to his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight tremor of excitement coursing through him.
This was all crazy. First werewolf and now my puppy woke up a little boy. I must be going mad. but one look at the sweet round and concern eyes of the little kid melted my heart. This was my SHadow. the baby that has follow me and tried to protect me.
As I pulled him into a gentle embrace, Shadow flinched, his small body tensing up. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, and he groaned in pain, a sound that cut through me like a knife.
I immediately pulled back, my hands hovering uncertainly over him. "What's wrong?" I asked, panic threading through my voice. My eyes darted to his ribs, where the faint bruises were now more visible in the morning light.
Shadow winced again, his hand moving instinctively to his side. "It hurts," he whispered, his voice small and strained. "From last night..."
Last night? My mind raced back to the attack, the moment those men had kicked him. Oh God. I felt a surge of guilt and anger—guilt for not being able to protect him, and anger at the bastards who had hurt him.
"Let me see," I said gently, trying to keep my voice calm despite the turmoil inside me. I carefully lifted his shirt, revealing more bruises scattered across his ribcage, darkening his pale skin with purple and blue marks. My heart sank at the sight.
"I'm so sorry, Shadow," I murmured, my hand lightly brushing over the bruises, trying to avoid causing him more pain. "I should have done more to protect you."
He gave me a small, brave smile, though it was tinged with pain. "It's okay, Ma," he said softly. "I'm... I'm okay. I just need to rest a little."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Alright, we'll rest," I agreed, gently helping him lay back down. "But we need to get these checked out, okay? We can't leave them untreated."
Shadow nodded, his expression softening. "I trust you, Ma," he said quietly, his eyes closing as he settled back against the pillows. "I trust you to take care of me."
Tears stung my eyes as I brushed his hair back again, my fingers trembling. "I will, Shadow," I promised, my voice barely more than a whisper.
As Shadow drifted back into sleep, I sat beside him, my mind racing with everything that had just happened. This wasn't just bizarre; it was downright impossible. But here he was, my Shadow, no longer a small pup but a little boy, lying beside me with a trustful smile on his face.
I wiped a tear from my cheek, trying to steady my breathing. The memory of last night's attack flashed through my mind again, the way those men had hurt him, the helplessness I'd felt. I couldn't bear the thought of him being in pain, of anyone or anything hurting him again. The bruises on his ribs were a stark reminder of how vulnerable he was, even now in this new form.
I needed to figure out what had happened, how this was even possible. The wolves, the magic... everything was spinning out of control, and I felt like I was caught in the middle of a storm. But right now, Shadow needed me.
I gently tucked the blanket around his small frame, making sure he was comfortable. I stared down at Shadow, still struggling to wrap my head around the reality in front of me. How was I going to explain this to Owen? How was I going to explain it to anyone? The thought sent a chill down my spine. I could barely comprehend it myself. One moment, Shadow was a tiny, loyal pup, and now... now he was a child, with eyes that seemed to hold a thousand questions and a newfound awareness that broke my heart.
What was I going to do? My hands trembled as I smoothed the blanket around him again, trying to keep my touch gentle despite the turmoil inside me. I needed help—someone who understood what the hell was going on. But who could I turn to? Zeff? Could he know something about this? About wolves and... whatever Shadow had become?
The thought of calling Zeff sent another wave of confusion through me. Things between us had been tense, unspoken words hanging in the air like a thick fog since last night. And now, with William in the picture, things had only gotten more complicated. Shadow needed someone who could help him, someone who knew about the world beyond the normal, who understood what was happening.
But explaining this to Owen… How would he react? He barely tolerated Shadow as a wolf. A small, growling child who could speak and express pain would be a whole different level of complication. I could already hear his angry questions, his disbelief. And worse, the coldness that had crept into his demeanor recently would likely only intensify. I wasn't ready for that confrontation.
I took a deep breath, pushing the panic down. One step at a time, Liliam. I had to figure out the immediate problem—Shadow's injuries. The bruises looked bad, but there was something else, something deeper. I needed to find out if this transformation had caused him any harm or if there was a way to help him heal.
Zeff
The next morning, I arrived at the office with a heavy heart, the events of the previous night weighing on my mind. The usual hustle and bustle of the office seemed distant and muted as I made my way to my desk. I glanced over at Liliam's desk and saw that it was exactly as we had left it yesterday, untouched and empty.
A pang of worry shot through me. Liliam hadn't shown up. I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen as I considered sending her a message to check if she was okay. The urge to reach out was almost overwhelming, but I gripped the phone tightly, holding myself back. She needs the space. She needs to rest, I reminded myself.
With a deep sigh, I put my phone away and walked over to her desk. Her absence felt like a gaping hole in the room. I couldn't just sit by and do nothing, so I decided to pick up where she left off. Sitting down at her desk, I opened her files and started to go through her tasks. The familiarity of her work helped to ground me, and I focused on getting through each item on her to-do list.
The hours passed slowly, each one feeling heavier than the last. My mind kept drifting back to Liliam, wondering how she was coping and if she was alright. I tried to push the thoughts aside, immersing myself in her work to distract myself from the gnawing worry.
Coworkers passed by, some glancing curiously at me sitting at Liliam's desk, but no one said anything. The office chatter seemed distant and irrelevant compared to the turmoil I felt inside. I kept my head down, concentrating on the tasks in front of me.
As the day dragged on, I found a strange solace in doing her work. It made me feel connected to her, even if she wasn't there. I hoped that giving her this space would help her process everything, but the waiting was excruciating.
With each completed task, I felt a small sense of accomplishment, but it was always overshadowed by the worry for Liliam. I just wanted her to be okay, to understand, and to feel safe again.
Finally, as the day came to an end, I gathered my things, leaving her desk as neat as I had found it. I glanced at her empty chair one last time before heading out, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and that she would return.
As I walked out of the office, I pulled out my phone again, my thumb hovering over her contact. With a deep breath, I decided to send a simple message.
**Zeff:** _I hope you're okay. _
Hitting send, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and made my way home, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on my shoulders.
Liliam
I sat on the edge of the bed, a small bottle of ointment in my hand. Shadow lay beside me, his shirt lifted to expose the bruises marring his ribs. The sight of them made my heart ache, but I tried to keep my face calm, not wanting to worry him more than he already was.
"This might sting a little," I warned softly, dipping a cloth into the ointment.
Shadow nodded, his small face scrunched in a mix of curiosity and concern. "I'll be okay, Ma," he said bravely, but I could see the flicker of pain in his eyes as I dabbed the medicine onto his bruises.
I worked carefully, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Shadow, listen to me," I said after a moment, my voice low but firm. "When Owen is home, I need you to stay in the guest room. You need to hide."
His expression immediately shifted, his brow furrowing in confusion and a hint of defiance. "Why?" he asked, his voice tinged with a stubborn edge. "I don't like him, Ma. And I don't like him near you."
I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and protectiveness. "Shadow, you're… you're a twelve-year-old child now," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And yesterday, you were a wolf. How am I going to explain this to Owen?"
His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unhappy with the idea. "But he's mean," he muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor. "He doesn't like me. And I don't like the way he looks at you."
My heart clenched at his words. There was a raw honesty in his eyes that cut right through me. I paused for a moment, putting the ointment aside and reaching out to gently cup his face, turning it so he was looking at me.
"I know, Shadow," I said softly. "I know you're trying to protect me. But right now, we have to be smart. Owen can't find out about this. Not until I figure out what's going on. Do you understand?"
He looked at me for a long moment, his dark brown eyes searching mine, before he finally nodded. "Okay, Ma," he said quietly. "I'll stay in the guest room when he's here. But… I don't like it."
I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I know," I whispered. "But it's just for now, alright? Until we figure this out."
Shadow nodded again, though I could still see the reluctance in his eyes. He was scared, and so was I, but we didn't have much choice.
"There," I said, finishing with the ointment and gently pulling his shirt back down. "All done. That should help with the pain."
He gave me a small smile, his expression softening. "Thanks, Ma," he said, leaning into my touch.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close, feeling the warmth of his small body against mine. "You're welcome, sweetie," I whispered, holding him tight.