The human skin I had worn for years, along with the lingering scent of baby powder and sweet milk, was stripped away in a single, breath-taking heartbeat. For so long, I had been mocked as the broken ucube who couldn't even manage a basic shift. But today, in defiance of all those dark, suffocating years of stillness, my bones cracked, my spine lengthened, and my spirit broke through its cages.
I emerged into the crisp spring air as a breathtaking, pure white wolf. My coat was the color of fresh, untouched snow, gleaming with a silver-gray luminescence that mirrored the ancient magic humming under my skin.
Ahead of me, Varg's massive, midnight-black Lycan wolf was already tearing through the brush, a living shadow against the vibrant green of the waking forest. He didn't wait for me. He simply let out a low, challenging bark that vibrated through the earth, urging me to follow.
I dug my claws into the fertile soil and ran.
