Bride of the Beasts
When I managed to lift my head, my breath caught.
His horns were emerging.
They pushed slowly from near his temples, curving upward and outward, dark and ridged and unmistakably inhuman. His face remained mostly human, but his eyes had changed—darker, more animal—and his shoulders had broadened, the fabric of his shirt straining against new muscle.
He was partially shifted, caught between man and beast, and the sight should have terrified me.
Fenric chuckled behind me, the sound vibrating through my back where I still leaned against him. His arms tightened around my waist, holding me in place.
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