THE TWINKLING STARS began to fade one by one as the approaching dawn slowly brightened the sky. A breeze from the ocean rustled the branches and colorful leaves, adding a wash of sound in the otherwise silent night. Doom emerged from the cave, stretching as he woke up. “Ti?” he called, looking around the camp. He sighed softly and sat on the log beside the panther who lay curled in a miserable ball on the ground.

“What’s the matter?” The panther turned her face away. “The air is chilly. You should go inside before the sun rises so you don’t get cold when you change back.” She merely hunched her shoulders more. He got up, lamenting, “You are so stubborn.” He brought his cloak out, draping it over her as her body contorted while returning to her human form.

“I am an unnatural, horrible monster,” she whispered, hunched into a ball where she had lain as a panther. She hid her face in her arms. “Why do you let me live?”

Doom scowled. “You are not a monster! The dragon even said you are not a monster. You are just a shape-shifter. There is nothing unnatural about it.”

“You don’t understand!” She repeatedly slammed her fist so hard onto the wood Doom winced in sympathy. He grabbed her by both wrists to stop her from hurting herself. “Alimar has magic. He has lots of magic and he is a monster. I saw what magic does. I saw the evil he did with it.” She struggled in his firm grip. He grunted, determined to hold her back from injuring herself. “I have magic. I am just like him.”

“No! You are nothing like him, Tiwaz!” He shook her. “Look at me, damn it.” She obeyed, her eyes filled with shame. His heart ached for his beloved friend’s pain. “Why would you even think you were like him? You are my Tiwaz. My warrior.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I do not care if you have magic. Magic is not what made Alimar evil. How he used magic is what made him evil.”

“I saw how you looked at me when I changed shape,” she whispered, agonized. “I saw the horror and fear in them. You were afraid of me. You were…you were repulsed by me.”

The gromek grimaced. “The dragon that removed the glyphs didn’t say you were a shape-shifter. I wish it…she…had.” He sat on the ground beside her, holding her tight against him, both for warmth and reassurance. “The transformation is not pleasant to look at. I will admit to that. And, yes, I was afraid, but I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid for you. I only knew the madness that overtakes lycanthropes, and for a few moments while you changed, I was so afraid you were like them. There is no cure for that magic-caused contagion. It drives those afflicted into a psychotic, murderous rage. Death is the only mercy a lycanthrope has and the only way to protect others from their bites.

He sighed. “Then I met your eyes. I could see the horror and confusion in them, and I could see your heart. You’ve prided yourself on discipline and self-control.” He rested his chin lightly atop her head. “I saw you in your eyes. How mortified you were to learn you were something that terrifies people. A shape-shifter.

“And then I did something unforgivable. For the space of a heartbeat, I looked at you the same way everyone but you has ever looked at me.” He turned his face away. “And you ran from me because you were afraid of me. The only thing in the world I had was your love and trust. I thought I lost that. I thought…I lost you.”

She looked up at him, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I do not blame you. People are stupid if they think you are a monster.” She looked at her hands. “I’m the real monster.”

He scowled. “Get that stupid idea out of your head right now! You are no more a monster than I am. I was an idiot for even having a shred of doubt about you. If I’d a clue what to expect…” Feeling her shiver with the cold, he pulled her closer, exhaling wearily. He unwrapped his arm from around her after several heartbeats. “Now, go inside and get dressed. You are more sensitive to temperature extremes than I am. You always have been.”

The young woman nodded with a weak smile. Slipping the cloak off to hand it back, she blinked at the utterly shocked look on Doom’s face. “What’s wrong?”

He got to his feet, still staring. “Turn,” he said simply, yellow eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin. “How are your ribs?” he asked.

“My ribs? What about my ribs? I—” She stopped, staring sightlessly, hands flat against her lower ribcage. “My ribs…” She looked down at herself, hands going to the various places that had borne scars all her life. “My ribs…the cuts…Everything is healed…” She held up her hands, frowning. “Except for my wrists.”

He put his hands under hers, looking at them. “They look better, at least. The dragon did say that shape-shifters tend to heal faster. Perhaps it has something to do with the shape-shifting itself. It explains those times you would heal but your wrists would bleed.” He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder, urging her towards the cave. “Go. Get dressed. It is still cold.”

He sat again as she disappeared into their cave home. His smile faded, his expression growing more troubled. “The dragon said the days ahead will test us without mercy…” He looked over his shoulder. “I worry what more can happen to us. Ti never has been good with having her attention divided between multiple problems.”