Captivated

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The moment Malik reached the forest, he knew.

He knew what Mikhail was planning.

One glance at the almost full moon told him exactly what he needed to know. It told him everything about Mikhail's plan.

"That bastard", he swore through gritted teeth as he tore his trousers off and tossed them aside. As much as he and Mikhail had their intense hatred that ran bone-deep, he knew Mikhail better than anyone else in the world. They were so alike - too alike. He had to only think if he had his brother's mate, what would he do in order to get revenge?

The answer was cruel but came to him right away.

The wind brushed over his bare body as he took a deep breath in, his muscled chest heaving up and down as he prepared himself. He had to get to Arya by tonight before they underwent the ritual preparations and he knew it was humanely impossible to do.

But he was not a human.

The aconitum had yet to wear him down to a mere human.

Despite how long his wolf was suppressed for, he was still an animal. He was a beast at his very core and the human body he resided in was a pretty facade that his ancestors evolved into to fit into society. He and his people were very much wolves in sheep's clothing.

He closed his eyes, his lashes casting thing spiderlike shadows across the hollow under his cheekbones. His face, impassive as if it were cast in marble was straight and still such that if passerby were to see him, they would think he was a statue, such a fine statue that adonis could not hold a candle to his raw masculine beauty.

Then just as suddenly, his face contorted into a twisted expression of pain and his body began to convulse and shake, tremors ripping through his body, each one more vicious than the last.

Malik hunched over and then fell to the ground on his fours, his back arched as his body struggled to transform. He could feel the traces of aconitum burning in every fibre of his muscles as it tried to fight back the transformation.

He groaned in pain as a fresh wave of pain hit him and just as that receded, another hit. This was the most pain he had ever been in, his first transformation had been less agonising than this. His fingers curled and the leaves and stones crumbled under his hands and he clenched his hands in agony.

He could feel his skin grow warm and warmer, he could feel his skin begin to tear and rip as hair began to push its way through. Malik could feel every hair follicle sprout and grow. He could feel his spine break and he sensed a darkness hovering over his conscious as it rearranged itself for the first time in years. His nails grew and tore out his fingers, blood soiling the Earth below his body.

It was like a feverish dream as he slipped in and out of awareness, the ache accompanying him even in the dark. He could feel his face lengthen and grow and the next he was aware, he could feel his tail flicking from side to side.

As Malik opened his eyes, he noticed his perspective had changed. Everything looked different from the eyes of his wolf, the world looked bigger. He took a tentative step, the agonising pain he felt just moments before forgotten.

There was the sensations of dirt and crawling insects under the padding of his paw. He could feel the wind caressing through his fur and the gentle sway of his tail. His ears perked up and he was assaulted by sounds from miles away. He had managed to do it, he could shift.

With childish excitement, he began to run, rhythmic padding echoing through the forest. Malik had forgotten the raw power that his wolf form provided him. His already heightened senses were through the roof, everything looked so beautiful, so intricate. He could see the details in the bark from a tree that was metres away from him, he could see the stars in achingly stunning detail.