The fire had burned down to embers.
Marcus sat cross-legged in the dirt, trying to keep his eyes on the fading glow instead of the curve of Eshara's cheekbones in the half-light.
He shifted, arms crossed over his chest.
"I wasn't—" he started.
Eshara's eyes lifted to meet his, dark and unblinking.
"Keep your fantasies to yourself."
His mouth went dry.
"I didn't—"
"I know," she said evenly. "But this is not anything."
She tossed a small branch onto the coals.
"Not now. Not ever."
Marcus shut his mouth.
The heat of embarrassment felt almost hotter than the fire.
Midday slipped into dusk, and the shadows lengthened across the clearing.
Marcus felt it first as a pressure behind his ribs, a tightness that made every breath feel too big for his lungs.
He tried to steady himself, but his vision started to shimmer.
"Eshara—"
"Don't fight it," she said softly.
He hunched over, a shudder tearing through his shoulders.
His skin prickled, his veins pulsing with something that felt alive.
"Eshara—!"
He choked as his fingernails thickened, black claws erupting from his fingertips.
He hit the ground on his palms, his back arching.
The last thing he saw before the world blurred was her watching, perfectly calm.
When he came back to himself, he was standing.
His body loomed taller, broader—an unfamiliar weight in his limbs.
A growl rumbled in his throat.
Eshara's voice drifted to him, soft and unhurried:
"Don't lose yourself."
But the instinct was stronger than language.
He lunged.
She moved faster—just a flicker of motion—and he felt her claws at his throat, pressing him back.
Her strength was absolute, unyielding.
Black eyes locked to his as she forced him to stillness.
"You will not harm me," she said quietly.
His vision flickered.
And everything went black.
When Marcus woke, he was human again.
He was warm.
He blinked, confused, until he realized the weight against his back, the arm draped over his ribs.
Eshara's skin was as hot as a banked fire.
She didn't move when he stirred, her breath slow against his shoulder.
Heat crawled up his face.
Eventually, she shifted away and stood, the early light painting her silhouette silver.
Without a word, she began to pull on her clothes.
Marcus sat up, covering himself with one hand.
"You—you were—"
"Keeping you alive," she interrupted.
She fastened her coat, her face unreadable.
"You'll freeze without help."
He swallowed.
"That would have been helpful to know before I spent three days freezing."
"It takes time," she said calmly. "Your body isn't ready yet."
She adjusted her collar.
"When it has acclimated, I'll show you how to emit heat in your humanoid form."
Marcus rubbed his face, trying to hide the flush creeping over his neck.
"That's…good," he muttered.
Her gaze found him again.
"Don't get the wrong idea," she said evenly.
"This was survival. Nothing more."
She shifted her weight, considering him.
"You need to understand," she went on, her voice quieter.
"It's not just about muscle memory. You must learn to work with the components inside you—parts that don't exist in other humanoid bodies."
He watched her, heart still thumping in his chest.
"You have to make the most of what you have," she said.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"The more you learn, the more you will be able to improve."
Marcus exhaled, feeling a knot in his chest loosen.
She turned, scanning the trees.
"And the first thing I'm going to show you," she added, "is how to generate heat."
They walked until the sun climbed overhead, and the light filtered down through the canopy in shifting bands.
When Eshara stopped, Marcus nearly stumbled into her.
Ahead, a creature stood between two trees—a heavy-shouldered beast with a blunt snout and dark fur.
It watched them with flat, unblinking eyes.
Eshara didn't look back at him.
"This time," she said, "I'm not going to step in."
His throat tightened.
"What?"
"You will look at it," she said.
"And if it rushes you—"
She lifted her chin.
"You will figure out how to survive."
Panic flickered in his chest.
"Eshara—"
"You need to feel it," she said, her voice as calm as ever.
"The pain. The desperation. The instinct."
She stepped away, her coat brushing his bare arm as she passed.
"And only when you have sufficient personal experience," she went on, "can you rediscover what has been hidden in you."
Marcus turned to protest—
But she was already climbing the trunk of a nearby tree, her boots silent on the bark.
She settled in the crook of a branch ten feet above, black eyes watching.
"This is your moment," she said softly.
"And the faster you figure it out—the better."
Marcus swallowed, his legs trembling.
The creature lowered its head.
And began to advance.