I stood by the cradle, one hand on Lila's back. She slept through it all, tiny chest rising and falling, her dark hair curling against the blanket. Five months old and she already trusted the world more than I did. The scar on my chest burned, not the old fire from the witch's mark, but a warning that the partial breaking had only bought us time. The curse was weaker, but the full moon still tested us, still tried to pull the wolves out and let them run.
Darius spoke first, voice rough. "It's hitting harder tonight. Like the birth only delayed it."
Kane sheathed his knife with a snap. "Mine wants out. Wants to run south and finish what we started with your father."
Rylan let go of the chair and flexed his fingers. "Same. If we don't do something soon, I might not make it to dawn without shifting."
