Becky POV
Morning came without ceremony.
No horn.
No voice.
No pressure curling around our lungs.
Just light.
It seeped through the trees slowly, pale gold catching on dew-heavy leaves and the flattened grass where wolves had slept in loose clusters through the night. The moon was gone now, retreating like it had never belonged to us in the first place.
For a few fragile seconds, the island felt… ordinary.
That unsettled me more than any trial.
I lay still, eyes open, listening to the rhythm of breathing around me. Some wolves were already awake, stretching, shaking out stiff limbs, human again in posture if not in spirit. Others slept on, exhaustion finally claiming them after days of tension wound too tight.
My wolf lingered close to the surface, calmer than she had been in days, but alert. The full moon had fed her. Reminded her who she was. She wasn't eager to retreat now.
Neither was I.
