Page 42 of Bitten Shifter (The Bitten Chronicles #1)

Chapter Forty-Two

“Mary,” I say, lifting my gaze to meet hers. Determination sparks in my chest as I hold up the band. “Will you really show me how to make these? Something that actually works?”

Her features soften, understanding flickering in her kind eyes, and she nods. “Absolutely, my dear. It will be my pleasure to teach you. Together, we will create something far better than this mess.”

“Thank you.”

Mary smiles warmly and nods towards the necklace Merrick gave me. “Now, that’s a beautiful piece of work.”

I shift my focus to the necklace; Mary is right. It’s nothing like the band. The warding magic is intricate, layered with a precision that radiates protection and care. I can feel its strength through my fingertips.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, awe filling my voice. “Merrick gave it to me.”

“The Alpha Prime must truly love you,” Mary says with a knowing smile. “With your magic balanced and that awful band gone, let’s concentrate on your shifter magic and fix your sensory issues. You can’t craft effective magic bands if you are not fully in control of yourself. Close your eyes.”

I obey, letting my eyelids fall shut as I focus inward.

“Good. Now, tell me—how does your shifter magic feel now?”

“It’s not so wild anymore,” I reply, my voice distant. I sense the still-boxed energy inside me. “It’s calmer.”

“Excellent. You are already maintaining control. Remember, shifter magic can be powerful and unpredictable, but it does not have to be chaotic. I’d like you to pull a thread of that magic and direct it towards your ears.”

My ears?

Though hesitant, I concentrate, imagining a strand of magic moving to them. Suddenly, my hearing sharpens, overriding Mary’s boundary spell. “I can hear faint conversations far away,” I say in amazement.

“Perfect. Now pull it back.”

I focus once more, and the enhanced hearing fades, returning to normal.

“Well done. Now let’s try your sight.” Mary gestures at a bookshelf on the other side of the room. “Can you read the spines from here?”

I squint, but the letters remain blurred. “No.”

“All right. Push the magic to your eyes.”

I draw on that magic again, directing it to my vision. Instantly, the book spines come into sharp focus. I can even make out the smallest lettering, and beyond that, the wood’s grain, the texture of the stone walls, and faint silver filaments—tiny inscriptions carved into the stone.

“I can see them,” I say, wonder thick in my voice.

“Brilliant. Pull it back now.”

I let the magic recede, my sight returning to its usual range.

“You can do this with all your senses—smell, taste, touch. It’s about directing the magic where it’s needed, the same way you use your technomancer abilities. You already have discipline, and that’s a big advantage. Soon, it will become second nature, responding before you even think about it.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, gratitude flooding me.

“Do you think you will be all right if I drop the boundary spell?” Mary asks.

I pause, checking my shifter magic. The wild energy remains firmly in its box. Feeling stable, I smile and nod. “I will be fine.”

“Excellent.” With a swift flick of her wand, the soft blue glow around us dissolves. I brace myself, expecting a sudden onslaught of sound, but the world remains calm. Everything hums at a normal level.

Mary’s smile is warm, her pride unmistakable. “Well done, Lark. You have taken to this more quickly than I anticipated. Feeling better?”

“Much better, thank you.” The tension in my shoulders finally eases.

She picks up the sensory band, holding it gingerly between her fingers as though it might bite. “You don’t need this anymore. May I dispose of it?”

“Please,” I say, eager to be rid of it.

Mary crosses to a sealed bin marked magic waste and drops the band in without ceremony. As it lands, the faint hum of its magic sputters and fades, winking out of my senses.

“Good riddance,” she mutters, brushing her hands together as if shaking off its lingering essence.

“Now, let’s talk about shifting. How many times have you shifted?”

“Twice,” I reply. “Once when I completed my transformation at the warehouse, and once in my sleep.”

She hums thoughtfully. “A resting brain—your shifter magic decided to be sneaky. It shouldn’t happen again. Did it hurt?”

“Not when I shifted in my sleep,” I admit, “but the first time was incredibly painful.”

Mary leans forward, eyes gleaming with interest. “Let’s return to your senses. You can control touch now, right?”

I think about it and nod.

“If you can control touch, you can also decide whether your muscles and nerves feel pain. You can turn it down—or off entirely.”

I gasp. “I can do that?”

“Of course!” she exclaims, excitement lighting her face. “Nature has its own balance, and that’s yours. You shouldn’t feel pain when you shift. It should be as seamless as blinking. Rather than experiencing bones breaking and ligaments stretching, you will learn to use both types of magic. Your shifter magic will nullify the pain, while your mage magic will speed up the process. With practice, you will be able to shift in seconds—just like that.” She snaps her fingers, clearly pleased by my wide-eyed reaction.

“I really could do that?”

“Absolutely! You will also be able to shift specific parts of your body at will. Let’s start small.” She glances at my hands. “Try a single fingernail. Once you master that, the rest will follow naturally. I don’t expect instant success,” she adds with a teasing glint in her eye, “but by the end of today or tomorrow, you should manage to shift that one digit. Then we will move on to the entire body.”

“Why are you helping me with my shifter magic?” I ask, curiosity lacing my words.

Mary pats my hand gently. “Because, my dear, your mage magic is already beautifully refined—we only need to show you what is possible. For you, that might be anything. You have been focusing without a wand, and that’s rare. Even I need one for channelling my spells. That’s your sigma nature shining through—you have always been a sigma, Lark. Becoming a wolf simply brought it fully to the surface.”

I blink, trying to absorb her words.

“Now, let’s try something simple,” she continues. “Place your hand on the table and wiggle your index finger.”

I obey, giving my finger a small wiggle.

“Good. Now focus on your nail. Make it thicker.”

I raise an eyebrow, feeling slightly sceptical.

“This is basic shifter training,” Mary says with a confident smile. “You have got this.”

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.”