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asked again, “Where does the shifting come
from inside you?”
Cyrene angled her head as if listening to
something. “It was strange, mortal king, to
find that I had a new place within me with the
return of magic. To find that something new
had taken root.” Her small hand drifted to her
middle, just above her navel. “A little seed of
power. I will the shift, think of what I wish to
be, and the change starts within here first.
Always, the heat comes from here.” The
spider settled her stare on him. “If you wish to
be something, king-with-no-crown, then be it.
That is the secret to the shifting. Be what you
wish.”
He avoided the urge to roll his eyes, though
Damaris warmed in his grip. Be what you
wish—a thing far easier said than done.
Especially with the weight of a crown.
Dorian put a hand on his stomach, despite