Chapter Sixty –One:
The stone vault was no longer a room; it had become a furnace of agonizing evolution. Luna's body was a battlefield where two ancient, warring bloodlines clashed under the cruel, watchful supervision of the Wolfmort Tree. The sound of her bones snapping was like dry timber splintering in a winter storm—sharp, wet, and relentless. Her skin tore in jagged lines as the larger, more powerful skeletal frame of the wolf pushed through the delicate, human vessel that could no longer contain it.
"Why... is it this... painful?" Luna choked out, her voice a mangled mix of a human sob and a predator's guttural rasp. Each breath felt like swallowing shards of hot glass.
