Page 20 of His Lucky Charm

“Is it?” I looked up, suddenly concerned. “Painful, I mean?”

He considered this, head tilted in that canine way he sometimes adopted when thinking. “Not exactly. Intense. Like stretching muscles you haven’t used in a while, but all at once. The first change hurts, but after that, it’s just… strange.”

I nodded, making a note. Over the past month, I’d filled almost two notebooks with observations about werewolf—Guardian—physiology, social structures, and abilities. Rafferty had been remarkably patient with my academic interest, answering questions and introducing me to pack members who were equally willing to satisfy my curiosity.

Not everyone had been thrilled about my integration into their world, of course. Kieran, the black wolf from the clearing, maintained a frosty distance. Several elders watched me with wary eyes at pack gatherings. But Rafferty’s position as next in line for pack leadership (another surprise—my boyfriend was essentially werewolf royalty) meant that most accepted his choice, even if they didn’t understand it.

Siobhan had been the most supportive, adopting me as an honorary brother with enthusiasm that occasionally bordered on embarrassing. “He’s never brought anyone home before,” she’d confided during a girls’ night that somehow included me. “Never even considered it. Then you walked in with your tweed and glasses, and he was a goner.”

Now, watching Rafferty prepare for the change, I understood more fully what an act of trust this was. He’d insisted we go to a special place for my first observation—a small cabin deep in the forests owned by his family for generations, designed specifically for transformation nights.

“Last chance to back out,” he said, stripping off his shirt to reveal the torso I’d become intimately familiar with over the past month. “Once it starts, I can’t really stop it.”

“I’m not backing out.” I set aside my notebook and approached him, placing my hands on his chest. “I want to see all of you, remember? Man and wolf.”

His expression softened as he covered my hands with his own. “You’re extraordinary, you know that? Most people would be running for the hills.”

“Most people don’t have the benefit of extensive research notes,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment. “And a very patient werewolf boyfriend to explain everything.”

“Guardian,” he corrected automatically, making me smile.

“That’s what I said.”

His laugh was cut short by a sudden tension in his body. His head snapped toward the window, where the first silver light of the rising moon filtered through the trees.

“It’s time,” he said, voice already deepening. “You should sit over there.” He nodded toward a chair positioned against the far wall of the cabin’s main room, safely distant from the open central space.

I pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then retreated to my designated observation post, notebook ready. “I’ll be right here.”

Rafferty nodded, then began efficiently removing the rest of his clothes. The sight of him naked still sent heat coursing through me, but I pushed aside those thoughts in favor of scientific observation. Tonight was about documentation, not distraction.

As the moonlight strengthened, streaming through the windows to pool on the wooden floor, Rafferty moved to stand in its center. For a moment, nothing happened—he simply stood there, eyes closed, breathing deeply.

Then it began.

The transformation started subtly—a ripple beneath his skin, like muscles flexing in strange patterns. His breathing deepened, became more deliberate. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Then, as if responding to some inaudible signal, his entire body tensed.

I watched, transfixed, as his form began to change. The process was both more gradual and more swift than I’d expected—individual changes happened in distinct stages, yet the overall transformation took less than a minute. Bones shifted beneath skin, elongating in some places, compressing in others. Muscles swelled and reconfigured. His face extended into a muzzle, teeth lengthening into fangs that gleamed in the moonlight.

The most fascinating aspect was the fur—it didn’t grow so much as emerge, seeming to rise from beneath his skin in a wave of russet that flowed from his spine outward. His hands and feet morphed into powerful paws, complete with retractable claws that clicked against the wooden floor.

Throughout the process, Rafferty remained silent save for a few deep, grunting breaths. His eyes—open now and glowing gold—remained fixed on me, as if ensuring I was still there, still accepting what I witnessed.

And then it was complete. Where my boyfriend had stood moments before, a massive russet wolf now watched me with intelligent, familiar eyes.

“Extraordinary,” I breathed, momentarily forgetting my notebook. “Absolutely extraordinary.”

The wolf—Rafferty—tilted his head, ears pricking forward at the sound of my voice. Cautiously, he took a step toward me, then another, movements fluid and graceful in a way that belied his enormous size.

I held out my hand, palm up in a gesture somewhere between greeting and offering. “Hello, you.”

Rafferty bumped his massive head against my hand, a familiar gesture despite the unfamiliar form. His fur was softer than I’d expected, thick and warm beneath my fingers. I explored the new texture, scratching behind his ears in a way that made his eyes close in apparent pleasure.

“This is remarkable,” I said, finally remembering my notebook and hastily jotting observations with my free hand. “The conservation of consciousness within a completely altered form… the retention of human cognition despite physiological transformation…”

The wolf made a sound suspiciously like a snort.

“Yes, I know I’m being academic again,” I acknowledged, smiling despite myself. “But you have to admit, this is fascinating stuff.”