John, my godfather, was a true outdoorsman. He stood six-foot-three with a short-trimmed black beard and sharp jawline; built like a tank, he always wore flannel. An orange beanie covered his jet-black hair.

  “Boys, food—” he tossed a bag of raw steak at me “—is served. Or it will be once you cook it. Grill, oh ye grill master.”

  “Yum,” I said, grabbing the meat. I rummaged through the kitchen for a platter.

  John dropped his work bag behind the recliner then asked, “How was the hike?”

  I froze.

  The lion in me wanted to say it was great. The human side restrained all words. Jayce saw my struggle and jumped in.

  “It was good. Lots to see. Really neat.”

  “Good. My old tent work well for you?”

  “Ended up not using it,” Jayce said.

  “Oh? Sleep outside?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  John sat quietly, waiting for the next revelation from the hike. When neither Jayce nor I spoke, the silence became awkward. He squinted, focusing on Jayce, then me.

  The inquisition was coming, so I dumped the steaks onto a platter and went for the back door.

  “You okay, Alex? You’re looking a little pale.”

  “Yeah. Big hike. Didn’t sleep well. Just tired.”

  Before John could ask another question, I slipped out the back door and walked across the mossy pavers of the back patio to the grill. I wasn’t ready for questions. I felt every one like a hammer against my chest. Cooking would be better. I was good at cooking. And steak was a favorite for us all.

  I lit the fire, then slammed the meat against the grates. As it began to sizzle, a column of heat wafted the smell into my nose. I drew in a sharp breath and closed my eyes. I started to salivate, not for cooked meat, but for that steak. Now.

  Raw.

  A bead of drool leaked from my lips.

  What’s wrong with me?

  I shook my head, then I noticed I wasn’t wearing shoes. I hadn’t even thought to put them on. But my feet weren’t even cold. I felt the mossy paver stones against my soles. Cold. Wet. Alive. The sounds and smells of nature surrounded me. Peace. Everywhere. Calling me.

  I closed my eyes and drifted toward the sensations. Warm liquid began to flow beneath my skin. I floated there a moment before I realized what was happening and snapped back to attention. My hands grabbed the edge of the grill to steady myself as my heart raced in my chest. I breathed deep and tried to focus on anything but the peace surrounding me. I knew what was trying to happen and for the moment I was holding it back.

  But only barely.

  I focused on the steak, trying to distract myself, but the urge to eat it off the grates almost overpowered me. I pounded my palm against my temple.

  I’m human. Humans don’t eat raw.

  Well, I’d never tried it. Maybe I should try it. Jayce would give me his portion.

  No. That was Jayce’s food. Not mine. He needed to eat just like me.

  He’d probably give it to me.

  But I couldn’t take his food. That’s his.

  But the steak smelled juicy. Succulent. Divine. It dripped red, each drop making the fire sizzle and dance.

  I slapped my cheeks. Hard enough to hurt. “Keep it together, Morant.”

  I glanced down at the steak. It looked done enough. Before another sensation could yank me towards shifting or eating raw meat, I scooped the steak onto the platter. I tried my best not to make eye contact with the steak as I heel-toed my way back inside. My arms shook. Every muscle in my body wanted that steak. Now. Raw. With a crash, I dropped the platter on the center of the table and sat in my usual seat. The aroma gripped me. I blinked and shook my head trying to remain in control.

  Then I realized I was missing plates, napkins and utensils. Basically every human thing I’d need to eat.

  Who needs napkins? Gravy? Do we have any gravy? Maybe I need carbs?

  Then I looked up. John and Jayce were staring at me. I swallowed hard as John stared at me, boring a hole in the side of my head. He chewed his cheek the same way he did when paying bills.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  Quick. Make an excuse. Anything except the truth.

  “Yeeeeah.”

  That’s all I could say. I had no words. Just hunger and exhaustion. Jayce stood and retrieved dishes from the kitchen and handed them to us. John stabbed the steak I wanted. I think he could tell, because he stopped mid-air and asked, “You… want this one?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  John set the steak on my plate then went for another one. I didn’t wait for permission: I dove right in. I ate like a beast. All teeth and throat. And then the steak was gone. I didn’t remember taking the last bite.

  I looked at Jayce. “D’you touch my food?”

  “No,” he said. “You ate it all. Like… instantly.”

  I almost growled, but then I pulled myself back.

  What was wrong with me? I hoped he thought I was joking. He smiled awkwardly. Then I noticed John. He hadn’t taken a bite. He sat looking at me. Analyzing.

  In the silence, I noticed his pulse. The little vein on his neck thumped. I could see it. And feel it.

  How could I feel it?

  My arm rested on the table. There it was. What I saw, I also felt. His pulse. Through the table.

  “Dude,” Jayce said, leaning forward.

  I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead, then noticed Jayce slide his steak onto my plate. “You look like you need this.”

  I nodded then dove in. Jayce’s steak was gone in seconds. I eyed John’s plate. He watched silently, then slid his second steak toward me. I ate it. Fast.

  “Soda?” John asked, offering an orange can. I shook my head in disgust.

  John nodded once, then dropped the can to the table and leaned forward against one arm. “Okay, what’s going on? Seriously. Both of you are being super weird. Alex, this is your favorite.”

  “Right. Uh… thanks?” I flashed a smile. “But I’m not in the mood.”

  John crossed his arms. “Alex, tell me what’s going on. Did anything… happen… to you on the trip?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then what is it? Out with it. I’m not just going to leave this.”

  Horrified, I blurted out, “I’m a lion.” I clenched my jaw.

  “What?” John’s voice went flat.

  “I’m a lion.”

  John looked at me again.

  “Like… is this like a spiritual thing?”

  “No, John. I’m like a literal, actual lion. I changed into a lion on that mountain and I’m still freaking out about it. I can barely hold myself human right now. The pressure inside me is… really intense.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Jayce sat there mouth open, then looked at John and waited.

  John leaned back, then with a simple smile he said, “Do it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Was he seriously challenging me? Was it a threat?

  No. He wore a warm, non-challenging smile. Like he was just inviting me.

  “You sure?” I asked. “It’s kind of freaky.”

  “I can handle freaky.”

  “Well, can you look away? Please?”

  “Like this?” John turned his chair away and waited patiently.

  I looked at Jayce, who shrugged as if to say your funeral then looked away too. Adrenaline made my elbows knock together as I pulled off my shirt.

  What was I doing? This was insane. Where were his guns? Were they loaded? I sure hoped he wasn’t carrying. Jayce would tackle him. I’m not going to get shot. It’s John. He wouldn’t… maybe he should watch. Just so he knows it’s me. I don’t want him to be afraid.

  I wrapped myself in a blanket from the couch and let go. Instantly, that feeling of warm honey flowing beneath my skin took over and the pressure subsided. The change happened faster than last time, bones, muscle, dimensions—all changing. Instinct told me to run. My heart told me to trust. I knew he hunted, but I’d never seen him confronted with a monster.

  I shut my eyes as hard as I could. “John.”

  A chair pushed back and footsteps approached.

  My legs lengthened, knees reversed. Ligaments slid over bone. Fur bloomed across my skin. As my body grew larger, I slowly pushed free of the comforter, revealing something extremely not-human. I couldn’t bear to watch John’s reaction. I kept my eyes pressed closed, hoping that if John decided to grab a gun, Jayce would tackle him before he could use it. I smelled for any trace of fear. When I couldn’t smell any, I opened my eyes. John knelt beside me. Grinning.

  “Aren’t you even a little bit surprised?” I mumbled as my jaw reshaped.

  “Nope,” John said. “Knew it was bound to happen someday.”

  My mouth dropped open. He knew? How did he know? What did he know? And how did he know?

  “You knew?” My throat was mid-shift so the words came out distorted.

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “Because you’re a shifter.”

  “A shifter?”

  “A human who can turn into a lion. Or a lion who can turn into a human. Nobody really knows which came first. Normally, the first shift happens after the eighteenth birthday if not learned sooner.”

  My brain sputtered and spun, but I had no words. He knew. He’d always known. How.

  “Just relax,” he said. “Your first few weeks of shifting are basically practice. So just… relax. Let it happen.”

  I was too weirded out to relax. Surprise? Horror? Fear? All of those reactions I could have handled, provided I didn’t get shot. But this?

  “How did you know?” Jayce asked, sliding into the recliner.

  John crouched with his elbow on his knee watching me shift. “Because I am a shifter too.” He looked at Jayce. “And so are you.”

  Jayce looked behind him then back at John, pointing at his chest. “Wait? I’m a shifter?”

  “Yeah. I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

  “Eventually?” Jayce’s voice shook. “Like when I turned into a lion in public? Or while driving? Or at the freaking mall? You’re telling me someday I’m just going to turn into a lion like him?”

  “You’re not a lion, son,” John said.

  Jayce blinked rapidly. “Please say I’m not like a hyena or something.”

  John leaned back and smiled. “Nope. Tiger.”

  “Tiger? You’re saying I’m a… tiger? Orange… fur? All that? Like for real? You’re not just toying with me and I’m seriously a poodle or something?”

  “For real. Tiger. Big one, too. Our family has… large genetics.”

  Jayce glanced at his hands. “But I’m eighteen. Why haven’t I… you know… shifted?”

  John shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re a late bloomer? Conditions weren’t right? Too much soda and junk food? I don’t know.”

  “Is something wrong with me?” Jayce asked.

  “Again, I don’t know.”

  “What do you know?” Jayce snapped.

  John lowered his voice. “Easy now.”

  Jayce’s jaw clenched. “Don’t. Don’t you ever. You just changed everything and you’re treating it like nothing. How could you never tell us? What were you even thinking?”

  “I don’t have a manual for this, son. I never got taught how to ‘do it right.’ My parents were gone by the time it happened to me. I had to go through it alone.” He turned toward me. “At least you had Jayce.”

  Jayce sat stunned and silent. John leaned toward me. “How’s it feel?”

  “Comfy,” I said.

  “Comfy!?” John jumped to his feet. “Dang boy, you got a gift for understatements! I remember my first change like it wasn’t thirty years ago. Ice fishing. All alone. Started feeling shaky. Just got the hole dug in the lake. Decided to lie down in my sleeping bag. Big mistake. Ended up busting that poor thing to pieces. Good news is I didn’t need it anymore after I got my fur.”

  “Can you please not be so giddy? Dad?” Jayce huffed.

  John patted my head. “Just lay there and relax. Enjoy your first-shift day.”

  “But…” I said, but John had already walked off, bouncing. I had so many questions. How did it work? What do I need to know? Then a thought took my breath away: my parents must have been shifters too. He’d always told me they died in a car accident. But now? Maybe that was a lie too.

  Jayce sat on the recliner, legs crossed, facing the closed window, lost somewhere in thought. His jaw clenched, then released. He sniffed more than a few times. I breathed and tried to refocus. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” he said, clenching his jaw. He stood then stomped to our room and slammed the door.

  I wanted to go after him, but I knew him well enough to know he needed space. The orange glow on the living room curtain was getting dimmer by the moment. The evening sun was fading. The thought of getting one last dose of sun-on-fur was irresistible. I needed to move fast.

  “Where are you going?” John asked.

  “Outside. I need to stretch and enjoy the sun while it’s still out.”

  John laughed as he sat down in his recliner. “Uh, no you aren’t.”

  I returned his laugh, thinking he was joking. But when his smile disappeared, I knew he was serious.

  “You can’t go out in the sunlight. It’s way too dangerous. Think of what would happen if someone saw you? You think I can just shift outdoors whenever I get the itch? I’d be dead. Hunter. Or worse. You transformed outside and got back safely. Count that a blessing and never do it again.”

  “It’s that serious? I thought… you know… mountains… lions are in the mountains.”

  “Alex, nothing in these woods is like you. You don’t fit. Forest Ranger sees you? It’s over. Enjoy the fireplace. But keep your transformations inside, okay?”

  I stared at the red front door. Of course John was right. What was I thinking?

  I looked back at the living room. There wasn’t a lot of space between the couch and the television. Precious little, in fact. The fireplace was still nice. The sun shone against the blinds, making them glow gold. The sunshine heated the door from the other side. I stretched my paw out and pressed it lightly to the surface.

  Warm.

  I sighed, then dropped my paw to the floor. My tail swished across the carpet.

  “How do you do it, John? Hold yourself human? You make it look easy. Whenever I relax, I shift. It’s like my body doesn’t want to be human anymore.”

  John hummed. “I remember that. I think it’s an early-shifter thing. Like your body needs to learn its new form, so it wants to be lion as much as it can. It’s natural.”

  “So, it gets easier to be human?”

  “A little.”

  “I can barely hold it, John. When I’m human the pressure is… ridiculous. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

  John nodded. “You want my advice? Don’t try to be human right now. Jayce and I can take care of you. It will get easier. And whatever you do, don’t fear or get anxious. Emotions can make shifting… unpredictable. But Alex, listen to me carefully. Shifters… we aren’t safe. We’re hunted. By a lot of people. Bad people.”

  “Hunted?” I asked. “Like because we’re lions and tigers and stuff?”

  “No. It’s darker than that.” John settled back and looked away. “I was fourteen. I hadn’t shifted yet. My cousin shifted for the first time that year at sixteen. Everybody gave him first-shift presents for it. We were all together when the front door burst open and people wearing black suits filled the room. At first, I thought it was a prank. Then someone stuck a gun in my face.”

  My stomach dropped. I wanted to put my paw on John’s arm, but I resisted. I could see he was barely restraining tears.

  “They waved a black device over each of us. Some kind of shifter detector. I told the man guarding me I felt sick. He let me use the restroom. I kicked open the window and ran.”

  John folded his arms and fiddled with his fingers. This was likely the first time he’d ever spoken about any of this, and the scars of the past showed.

  “We had an old, ancient neighbor. I broke into his house and hunkered down. I knew he’d never realize I was there. I could see my house across the street. The next day, black suits swarmed my house. SUVs lined the street and driveway. Vans came the day after. Then it was for sale. Just like nobody had ever lived there.”

  My jaw dropped open. John’s eyes slowly turned to me, stained red.

  “They took them all, Alex.”

  I placed a paw on John’s arm. He sniffed, then wiped his face.

  “Eventually, I found a place to live. Got a new name. Found if you have hands and you know how to use them, people will pay you. So that’s what I did. I swore at that time, I’d never tell anybody I was a shifter. Ever. For any reason. Too dangerous. I could live a lone wolf. Couldn’t live a dead one.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  John shrugged. “Thought I had more time.”

  “But Jayce is eighteen already. You didn’t tell him. He could have transformed in public. You realize that, right?”

  “Look,” John said. “Everything was fine. We had a normal life. Normal, Alex. Do you know… how valuable that is? For a shifter? You and Jayce were happy. Everything was great. I heard that shifting skipped a generation. I was hoping it’d skip you and Jayce. Then you could have normal, human lives. Turns out I heard wrong.”

  “And if it skipped a generation, my kids would suddenly turn into lions? When were you planning on telling me that?”

  “If you had a human wife, then there’s every chance the genetics would be so diluted nobody would ever manifest again. You’d be free—”

  “John. You should have told us. You need to tell this to Jayce,” I said.

  John nodded. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Should I send him out here?”

  John sighed then looked at me. “Yeah. It’s time.”

  I smiled, or at least tried. My mouth still didn’t entirely obey me. I turned carefully, avoiding the television with my tail, then padded to the bedroom. The door was closed. I knew Jayce was hurting and I knew I could help.

  Years ago, Jayce had a little stuffed animal: a tiger he named Zoey. John had gotten it for him second (more likely third or fourth) hand. He loved Zoey like she was real. He’d carry her everywhere, usually hauling the poor thing around by her arm. One day the arm came off and Jayce was devastated. I knew John couldn’t sew, so I grit my teeth, found the sewing kit and fixed Zoey’s arm. I must have stabbed myself two or three times with the needle. Sure, it was gaudy red thread against bright orange fur–not exactly a tiger fashion statement–but it worked.

  I remembered how happy he was when he got Zoey back, whole. Now, standing at the closed door, I wondered if I could still help like this.

  I stuck out a claw and tapped.

  Footsteps shuffled inside, then Jayce opened the door. He looked at me, clenching his jaw. After a deep breath, he motioned for me to come in. Our room was small with two twin beds shoved against opposing corners. Jayce went to his bed and flopped down. I moved carefully between the beds and sat like a cat, taking up the entire floor.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He sighed. “No. Very much not.”

  “Me neither.” I looked at the curtains covering the small window. “I can’t go outside.”

  “Makes sense,” Jayce said.

  “Doesn’t make it suck less.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You have a good talk with good old dad?”

  “He actually wants to have the same talk with you.”

  “Really?” Jayce said flatly.

  “Yeah. Really. I think he realizes he screwed up.”

  “I think what he did qualifies for bigger words than ‘screwed up’.”

  “Probably. But maybe give him a chance?”

  Jayce sighed and rubbed his face. “If you say so.” He rolled out of his bed and stood, pushing past me. The door opened, then shut. I heard Jayce and John talking through the door. Their muffled voices subtly rattled the floor beneath my pads.

  Did you see that coming?