First Transformation

A boy becomes a wolf

The night was colder than usual, the frost biting at Luca's bare feet as he darted through the woods, his breath visible in the air. His thin, tattered shirt clung to his chest, doing little to shield him from the chill. The village boys had chased him again—sticks and stones in hand, their laughter cruel and taunting as they called him names.

"Freak!"

"Half-blood!"

"Run, monster!"

The words stung more than the bruises on his arms, but Luca had learned long ago not to cry. Tears wouldn't stop them. Tears wouldn't make them leave him alone.

He pushed deeper into the forest, his legs burning as he scrambled over roots and rocks. The laughter faded behind him, replaced by the steady rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant hoot of an owl.

Finally, he collapsed near the base of a tree, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The moon hung high above him, its pale light filtering through the branches and casting long shadows across the forest floor.

Luca hugged his knees to his chest, shivering. The fear and anger inside him burned hotter than the cold biting at his skin.

It started as a low hum in his bones, like a vibration he couldn't stop. His teeth clenched, his body trembling as a strange heat spread through him.

Luca groaned, clutching his stomach as the sensation grew stronger. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud and erratic, drowning out the sounds of the forest around him.

"W-what's… happening?" he whispered, his voice shaky and barely audible.

The pain came next—sharp and sudden, like fire coursing through his veins. Luca cried out, his hands clawing at the ground as his body began to twist and change.

His nails darkened, lengthening into sharp claws that dug into the dirt. His skin rippled, coarse black fur sprouting along his arms and legs. His ears shifted, sharpening as his hearing became painfully acute.

Luca's breaths came in ragged gasps as his face elongated, his jaw stretching into a wolfish snout. His teeth ached, his fangs growing longer and sharper.

And then it was over.

The pain faded, replaced by a strange stillness. Luca opened his eyes—or at least, he thought they were his eyes. Everything was sharper now, clearer. He could see the individual veins on a leaf twenty feet away, the faint flicker of a moth's wings as it fluttered near a tree trunk.

He stood on four legs, his body low to the ground. His fur was black as midnight, sleek and unbroken except for a faint patch of silver near his chest. His paws felt strange but steady as he stepped forward, his movements silent and fluid.

When he glanced down into a small puddle nearby, the reflection that stared back at him wasn't the face of a scared boy.

It was a wolf.

Golden-amber eyes glinted in the moonlight, fierce and otherworldly.

Luca didn't have time to dwell on what had happened. His ears twitched, picking up the faint sound of footsteps in the distance—footsteps too heavy to be human.

His instincts roared to life, sharper than they'd ever been. He could smell it now: the musky, earthy scent of a predator. Something was stalking him.

A low growl rumbled in Luca's throat, surprising even himself. It was deep and primal, a sound he didn't recognize as his own.

The footsteps grew louder, and Luca's body tensed. He crouched low to the ground, his claws digging into the dirt as he prepared to run—or fight.

When the predator appeared, it wasn't what he expected. A wild boar, massive and furious, burst through the underbrush, its tusks glinting in the moonlight. It snorted, pawing at the ground as it locked eyes with Luca.

The wolf in him surged forward, and before he knew what he was doing, Luca lunged.

The fight was fast and brutal. His claws slashed through the boar's tough hide, his teeth sinking into its neck. Blood filled his mouth, metallic and warm, but the hunger driving him forward wasn't for blood—it was for survival.

When it was over, Luca stood over the fallen boar, his sides heaving. The wolf in him howled in triumph, but the boy buried deep within felt only fear.

When the sun rose, Luca was no longer a wolf.

He woke in the same forest clearing, his body curled up on the ground. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his arms streaked with dirt and scratches.

The boar's carcass lay nearby, a grim reminder of what had happened.

Luca sat up slowly, his body aching in ways he didn't understand. His hands trembled as he touched his face, his chest, his legs. He was human again—or at least, he looked human.

But something had changed.

The memory of the transformation was still fresh in his mind: the fire in his veins, the sharpness of his senses, the way the world had felt so alive when he'd been on four legs.

It was exhilarating.

And terrifying.

The first transformation left Luca more isolated than ever.

He didn't understand what had happened to him, only that it wasn't normal. It wasn't human.

He stayed away from the village after that, avoiding the other children and their taunts. The fear of losing control again was always at the back of his mind, and he couldn't risk hurting anyone—or being discovered.

But at the same time, the transformation gave him an edge. As a wolf, he could hunt more effectively, move more silently, and defend himself from threats that would have killed him before.

It became both a blessing and a curse.