The frightened omega collapsed on the shore of a lake so long and thin he would have mistaken it for a river if there was any sort of current at all. It was a placid thing instead, with waves that gently lapped against the sandy bank beneath his paws.

Paws. Not hands.

The little wolf shuddered and withdrew slightly from the water, though not before catching a glimpse of himself in the glass-smooth surface of the water. He was hideous. A monster. His eyes were like globes and his face was just a mash of fur and fangs. He was a thing that terrified women and ran through the nightmares of children.

No, the creature thought confusedly. I’m not a wolf. I’m not. I don’t understand this. I’m a human.

Panting now and not just from exhaustion, the wolf shifter struggled to recall his name. Ears flat against his skull, he wracked his brain for the word that had defined him for all 18 years of his life. The name that sent him spinning around and searching for a speaker even if it wasn’t he who was being addressed. That happened a lot when you had a pretty common name. But what was it?

So damn hard to think when there was so much assaulting him from the outside. In this stupid nightmare body, he was aware of absolutely everything in a way that he just hadn’t been aware of things before. He hadn’t known that water had a smell, but this lake did. It smelled fresh and wet, the wetness somehow having a distinguishable essence. It smelled like water tasted. The grass crushed under his paws released fragrance up into the air with every step, to the point where he was almost afraid to move anymore. The pine trees littering the slopes leading down to the lake gave off a spicy smell; some were spicier than others, others had a tinge of sap and still more had a dusty edge. Was he scenting individual trees or the different species? Either option was frightening.

And it wasn’t merely scent. He could hear everything all at once. The miniscule rustlings of ants trundling along somewhere, and the distant chirping of birds in one of those spicy pines. He heard the grass, the endless ocean of grass, every blade swaying in the breeze and brushing against its partners so that the sound was unceasingly outward and inward. Somewhere, tiny footsteps pushed against stones and sent them scattering. He heard each one land and could count them individually. Eight.

And his eyesight was different. There weren’t as many colors as he was used to, but everything was clearer. When he looked in the direction of the rustling ants, he could easily pick up their black bodies amidst the dark soil and the shafts of grass blades.

Shaking, the wolf plunged his head down and buried his face in the dirt and covered his eyes with his paws, flattening his ears against his skull. But now he was aware of the smell of the dirt, sun-warmed and fragrant, and somehow he knew it was a perfect mix and fertile. Any seed that landed in this spot would be well-fed and nourished greatly. He was aware of the smell of his own body, like a dog but wilder, with a tinge of fresh meat and blood and the scent of the wind in his fur. And he felt every muscle in his tightly corded, powerful body. He felt every individual hair on his pelt; every single damnable whisker. His tail was like an arm, another limb attached to the base of his spine that he could manipulate at will. It was maddening, all of it.

It was enough to make him go insane.

Somewhere nearby, perhaps half a mile away, but much too close for the omega’s comfort, a fox yapped. He knew foxes. They sulked in the shadows of the city where he used to live—though that name also escaped him—and emerged at dusk and just before dawn with malicious intent. They were rodent eaters; filthy things with grease-slimed pelts. And they had a nasty bite, or at least that was what he’d heard. He’d never been foolish enough to go poking at one when he saw it. Wild animals were to be given a wide berth. Any fool knew that.

Oh, but now he was a wild animal, too.

Everything suddenly became too much again. The omega shot to his paws and fell over himself in a tangle of limbs, still uncertain of his own speed and dexterity. A panicked sob deep in his throat burbled out of his mouth as a hellish bark, and he leaped up again and raced off as fast as he could. He was tired. So, so impossibly tired. He was hungry, tired, and thirsty.

Why didn’t I get a drink from that lake while I was there?

As he ran on and on, a confused swell of thoughts played in his mind. Humans couldn’t drink water from a lot of sources out in the wild because of bacteria, but animals did it all the time. Was he then capable of doing the same, or was he still too human? It was too confusing. Everything was confusing. He didn’t even know where he was.

He thought of that city he’d ran into earlier. He thought perhaps if he stood somewhere where other humans were, he might remember how to not be a nightmare, but all it did was fill his nose with disgusting smells. The wolf in him—or the wolf whose body he inhabited?—had hated all the cars and the modern amenities, and he hadn’t been able to do anything but just keep running.

And then he saw that other wolf…

A shudder passed through his body even as he ran, making him stumble sideways into a tree trunk before regaining his balance. He had thought he was a nightmare? That other wolf was on an entirely different level! It was gigantic, so sinister and with dark markings staining its gray fur. It was twice his size, perhaps three times, and it had even started to chase him. Luckily, it wasn’t as fast as it was big and he had quickly left it behind.

Now he wondered if he should have stayed. Perhaps the other wolf would know what to do. He just hadn’t been capable of thinking at the time…

As the omega ran across a grassy plain in the shadow of mountains, dusk paled the vibrant blue of the sky.

Corey, he finally recalled. My name is Corey.