Page 41 of Charged By the Razorbacks

Aleksy nodded once.

They stepped back, giving themselves space, the shift already beginning beneath Jarek’s skin as he let go of the human control he kept locked down most of the time.

It started deep. Not surface.

Bone shifting first, a pressure that built and stretched, muscle following, expanding, reworking itself into something built for impact rather than precision. His breath deepened as the change took hold, the world sharpening around him as his senses adjusted.

It wasn’t pain. Not anymore. But it wasn’t easy either.

It was power.

Raw.

Uncontained.

And he let it take him.

Beside him, Aleksy moved through the same transition, quieter, more controlled even in this, but no less imposing as the shift completed.

The room felt smaller when it was done.

Jarek steadied his stance, weight settling differently now, heavier, stronger, his awareness adjusting to the size, the strength, the instinct that sat closer to the surface in this form.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

They watched her. Waited. Because this mattered.

More than it should.

Tamsin didn’t step back. Didn’t flinch. Her gaze moved over them slowly, taking in the full scale of what they were without rushing it, without reacting.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice steady. “There you are.”

Jarek stilled, and Aleksy held. They waited.

Then she stepped forward. Just enough to close the distance.

“I told you,” she added, her tone lighter now, but no less certain. “I’m fine with big.”

Something in Jarek eased.

Enough that he let out a quiet breath, something settling into place as he realized—she wasn’t going anywhere.

And this time—he believed it.

****

She had thought she was ready. She hadn’t been.

Tamsin stood exactly where she had been when they stepped back to give themselves space, her arms loosely folded, her weight settled into one hip like this was just another thing, just another moment she could take in, assess, understand.

It wasn’t.

The air shifted first.

Not dramatically. Not violently. Just enough that she felt it along her skin, a tightening, a pressure that had nothing to do with the room and everything to do with them.

They had stripped before stepping back—efficient, unbothered, practical in a way that told her this wasn’t new, wasn’t something they dressed up or turned into more than it was. Clothes folded, set aside, attention already turning inward before she could let herself linger too long on the view.