Chapter 8

• SKY
• I can’t stop giggling as I stumble into the open air, Lamen’s lips brushing across my skin in a trail of eager kisses. My body feels like it’s on fire, even though it’s almost midnight. The night air is cool, but it does nothing to calm the heat spreading through me.
• Lamen’s teeth graze my neck, a little harder than I expect.
• “Ouch! What was that for?” I laugh, pushing him away lightly. “That actually hurt.”
• The moon above is full and glowing, flooding the world in silver light. Its reflection paints the path leading toward the Sequoia Trail. It’s one of the harder trails to follow, rough and winding, which is probably why I don’t go there often. I reach up to my neck and feel something warm and sticky. My fingers come away with a dark smear.
• “Did you draw blood?” I gasp, staring at Lamen. His eyes burn with wild desire, the black of his pupils almost swallowing the color around them.
• “Just a small bite,” he murmurs, voice low and thick. “It’s nothing. Are you ready for the night that changes everything? Tonight begins a new chapter for us.”
• He runs his tongue across the blood on his finger, and I shiver, feeling uneasy as a few others stand nearby. They’re watching us from the edge of the clearing.
• Why are they still here? Why can’t they go back to the barracks?
• “I can’t wait,” I whisper, excitement and nerves mixing until I can’t tell them apart. My pulse is racing. Lamen’s gaze follows me closely as I lick my lips, trying to steady myself. I glance down at my watch. The second hand ticks forward. Tick. Tock. Every beat feels heavier than the last.
• “I can feel your heartbeat,” Lamen says softly. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
• We step out onto the damp grass. The scent of pine and earth fills the air. My fingers tremble as I start peeling away my layers, piece by piece. I’d dressed lightly on purpose tonight, knowing what this moment would bring.
• Then something strange happens. My shoulder jerks with a sharp pop that makes me cry out in pain.
• “Oh my god, I’m breaking!” The pain spreads fast, my body trembling as if something deep inside me is being torn apart and rebuilt at once.
• It feels unreal, like I’m watching myself from outside my body. Somewhere deep inside, I hear my wolf’s calm, steady voice.
• It’s okay. You’re changing. Get ready to run. Use your speed.
• Why do you keep saying that? I ask in my mind, unsure if I’ve actually spoken aloud. Maybe I’m imagining things. I feel drunk on everything—fear, adrenaline, and whatever this new energy is.
• You must run. Heed my warning.
• The pain grows stronger. My joints pop one after another, the sound echoing through the quiet clearing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lamen begin to change too. His bones twist and reform, his muscles stretching beneath his skin. His wolf is magnificent—larger than any in the Silver Moon Pack, with fur the color of pale gold streaked with white. He’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.
• I can’t help but wonder what color my wolf will be.
• The thought barely forms before I collapse onto my hands, digging into the mud. My fingers stretch and curl, nails sharpening into claws. Soft tufts of fur sprout along my arms, then across my chest. My back arches with a crack, and I cry out again as my face begins to shift. My nose tingles and lengthens, forming a snout.
• Every nerve in my body feels alive, electric. The pain gives way to power.
• Then it happens—I’m fully changed. I’m not drunk anymore, not weak or afraid. I’m a wolf. My fur is white, snowy and bright under the moonlight, with small black patches on my paws. Trust me to end up with white fur. Everyone will know every time I roll in the forest mud.
• Lamen’s wolf stands beside me, twice my size. His golden fur glows under the moonlight.
• Our eyes meet, and he nudges me gently from behind, urging me forward. Something inside me responds instinctively. My body moves before I can think, my legs stretching, pushing off the ground. I’m running.
• How do I already know how to do this?
• The wind rushes through my fur, cool and sharp. Every sense is awake. I can smell the forest, the damp earth, the musk of nearby deer, the faint sweetness of wild berries. I can hear everything—the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs, the flutter of a bird’s wings far above me. Even the faint hoot of a white owl cuts through the night like music.
• And behind it all, I can hear him. Lamen. His heavy paws pound against the earth, chasing after me.
• I reach the edge of the Sequoia Moon Forest, where the trees grow massive and the path turns steep. My wolf wants to keep going, running harder, faster. I want to stop, to catch my breath, but she won’t let me. There’s an urgency in her—an instinct pulling us forward.
• I leap over damp logs, my body flowing with every movement. My vision is razor sharp, the forest lit up as if the moon has painted every branch for me.
• Somewhere behind me, Lamen’s growl rumbles through the air, deep and powerful. My wolf howls, lifting her snout toward the sky, answering the call of the Silver Moon Pack that echoes through the forest.
• The sound fills me, wild and free.
• I’m still running, my paws pounding the earth, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong to the night itself.
• Maybe I should let him catch me.