Heather keeps her composure in a careful grip, looking around the room.
Kayla is deathly quiet as she covers her eyes and ears. Almost imperceptibly, she rocks herself back and forth in a feeble attempt to withdraw herself from the world.
Her...husband, Rick, is sitting politely across from Kayla on the couch. His bright, obedient smile is betrayed by tiny flashes of confusion and shame in his eyes. His delicate hands tremble as he folds them on his lap. Heather looks away.
Emma is trembling, staring at the floor, her tail curled tightly around her left ankle. The leotard hangs limp across her meager form, and the tears on her cheeks fall silently.
Finally, Heather looks at her son. Tyler is breathing steadily, clutching the pillow over his groin with clenched fists. His eyes are darting around the room, lingering on Emma for a just a little too long. He looks up, meeting his mother's gaze. A look of crushing guilt flashes across him. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then forces it closed and looks away.
My children, my family...
The board cuts her off. Heather gasps as she hears the telltale clatter of dice in the tray. She can't look at it yet. Two deep breaths, in and out, in and out. She glances at the tray. Eight and Seven. Fifteen.
With panicked efficiency, she does the math and counts the tiles. She stares at the foreboding paw print emblem.
Her piece starts to move, slowly, steadily, across the board.
Her heart is racing.
No...No.
She stares at the inevitable tile, then at her daughter. A dark pit silently forms in her stomach. Her stony expression twitches.
Eight spaces, Nine Spaces, Ten spaces.
What can she do? What can anyone do? How do you bargain with something so inhuman, a horrifying, uncontrollable toy.
Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen.
This is my family. I have to protect them.
Fourteen.
Heather pursed her lips, clenched her fists, and uttered a silent prayer.
Please...give me strength.
For just a split second, the tile broke its rhythm, slowing down, splitting the difference between Fourteen and Fifteen.
Heather gasped.
The piece snapped into place.
The glow of the board shone brighter as the light suddenly shifted to a dark, weathered green.
The cards shuffled rapidly until they came to an abrupt halt. A large, emerald card levitated across the table, placing itself in front of the woman.
Heather didn't let herself hesitate, flipping it over with aggressive conviction.
The words were like the embers of a campfire, glowing against the backdrop of deep wilderness.
"Strength you will receive, and great stature too,
As you tower above those beneath you,
You will walk upright on padded paw,
And speak your words through a toothy maw,
The Queen of the jungle rises at last,
Beware her pride, beware her wrath,
Her feline grace and elegance,
For she is both woman and lioness."
Heather blinked.
She opened her mouth, only to clamp it shut as she suddenly grimaced, her haunches rising up as her shoulders tightened.
She felt a tingling deep in her chest. It grew and grew, and suddenly it was a wave of scorching heat, seeping outward into her limbs.
Heather gripped the table and moaned, pushing herself away from it. The chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor.
What is this?
Not fear, not pain, not quite arousal.
Just power.
Power flowing through her veins, soaking into her flesh and bones.
Despite herself, despite everything, she felt a rush, a triumph, a glimmer of confidence.
Then she felt a stabbing sensation in her gums.
With a yelp, she forced her jaw open, and felt her canines elongate into daggers.
Another surge of pain reached her fingers as her nails darkened, digging into her hands.
They became sharper with every passing second.
As Heather held herself, overwhelmed, she realized something; Her leotard was tight. Much too tight. And it was only getting tighter.
The fabric strained against her sweaty skin, tearing at the small of her back.
Her slippers creaked as the beginnings of claws pressed into their soles.
Heather finally understood. She was growing.
With every breath, her body gradually expanded upward as her toned legs lengthened, her arms stretching as her back rippled with lean muscle.
Her leotard finally split at her chest, tearing itself into a makeshift V-neck. It revealed the tufts of white and gold fur sprouting from her skin.
Heather moaned again, but this time, there was an inhuman growl in her voice, one that carried across the room.
Kayla flinched, slowly peeking above her forearms, going still as a statue.
Rick held his plastic smile, but there was dread in his eyes.
Tyler watched every move his mother made with a bittersweet cocktail of fascination and primal fear, his fingers slipping off the pillow.
Emma held her breath, her tail going limp as horror dawned across her red face.
"Mom?" her voice was a whisper, pitched with desperation.
Heather grunted, blinking as she opened her eyes. They dilated, now a burning gold.
She looked at her daughter, who shrank under her gaze with a whimper.
Heather tried to smile, baring her fangs beneath her lips. "It's...okay sweetheart, it's just me...I just..."
Her husky voice was still hers, but it carried a rumbling resonance, a bestial undertone.
The wooden finish on the table began to crack under her clawed grip.
Rick's feathery accent broke through. "Mademoiselle, you seem...deeply troubled. Are you alright?"
Her golden eyes hardened as she slowly turned to face him. "Do...I...look...alright...to you, Rick?" She growled every word.
Rick's eyes were filled with apprehension, but his mouth kept speaking. "Perhaps I can assist you madame, if you would require-"
Heather lunged to her feet with inhuman speed, tearing pieces of her worn clothing aside. She cleared the table and grabbed her husband by his frilled collar, pulling him off the couch. She was the same height as he was now, and still she surged upwards.
"You...did...this." She spoke through her teeth. "You perverted little shit!!"
She started to shake him, claws ripping through his collar, nearly reaching his flesh. He let out a shrill cry as she snarled in his face.
Kayla pulled herself into the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.
Tyler stared, hands shaking, face twisted in terror.
Heather watched her cowering husband with predatory focus. She drew back her fangs, preparing to bite.
"MOM!!!!"
The shrill scream seemed to shake the house. Everyone froze.
Emma was standing on the chair. Her tearstained eyes pleaded with the creature that her mother was becoming.
"Please...please stop."
Heather's golden eyes washed with realization. She trembled as she released Rick, who fell to his knees, breathing hard.
"I-I'm sorry...I don't know why, I-I didn't mean to-"
She screeched in shock as the fur started to spread faster and fast across her body. Whiskers burst from the skin around her lips, and her bones cracked as her frame expanded. Heather bolted like a wounded animal. She ran for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The wood cracked under the force of her strength.
Control it, she screamed to herself. Control it!
She yowled as she was overwhelmed by another wave of heat.
In the living room, Rick was still breathing hard on the floor. Tyler shakily turned to look at Emma. She slumped back into her chair. Their eyes met, a shared purpose igniting the air between them.
"We need to calm her down." Tyler spoke softly, with only a hint of conviction. Emma wiped her face and nodded. They both stood up.