Chapter 3 – The First Shift

Ayla’s POV

Alpha Jack and Luna Ria don’t stand in my way when I get up and head toward the door a second time. They know it’s time for me to leave.

With one last silent nod, I exit the packhouse and slip into the cold.

It’s dark now, the wind howling through the trees in the distance.

I head toward the clearing, where all coming-of-age wolves take our first shift.

I can feel my wolf stirring more and more, urging me on toward the clearing.

My surroundings are quiet; I can hear my old winter boots crunching into the soft, white snow, louder than they should be.

The trees close in as I go deeper, and my nostrils flare as I take in the earthy scent of pine and birch covered in ice.

I stop to look back at the packhouse; no one is following me. Everyone is inside, enjoying the festivities. The sound of laughter fades the farther I go.

I sigh as I step into the clearing. Usually, the pack would gather around to witness the first shift, and after, everyone would run together.

I’ll be all alone tonight.

No one will witness mine. No one wants to see the silent she-wolf take her wolf form.

I push the hurtful thoughts aside—there’s no need to dwell on things that won’t change.

My gaze shifts toward the sky; the clouds have given way to a dark, twinkling sky. The moon is slowly moving to its peak.

I stop at the edge of the clearing; it’s almost time, I can feel it.

My fingers close around the pendant at my throat. The cold metal presses into my skin, solid and real. I hold onto it longer than I need to, as if it gives me courage and strength.

My breath leaves me in a pale cloud, then I move, taking my first step into the clearing.

My gaze rises toward the moon; it hangs bright, full, and watchful, its light spilling into the clearing ahead.

The snow glows faintly where the moonlight touches, and the spot looks holy and untouched.

My chest tightens as I step into the circle, and that same stirring feeling grows stronger now. It’s not just movement anymore—it’s a fierce pull.

Everything inside me suddenly feels different, like I’ve almost found peace.

An urgent feeling rises in me, and I immediately start stripping off my clothes.

My hands shake as I take off my hoodie, which hits the ground behind me with a quiet thud. Then my shoes, and the rest of my clothes.

The cold bites at my skin, sharp and unforgiving, but I barely register it.

My wolf stirs again, more urgent this time—an indication that it’s time.

I close my eyes and wait for the pain to hit, but nothing happens.

I open my eyes and look down at my hands, but before I can register what’s happening, the excruciating pain hits.

It tears through me like a hot knife, with no warning or buildup.

My knees buckle and I slam into the snow. My body locks, then jerks violently as everything inside me shifts. A horrible cracking sound echoes through the silent clearing as bones break and move.

My fingers dig into the snow, nails scraping as my body twists and turns.

A sound rips out of my throat, raw and broken, but it never becomes a scream.

My spine snaps back, stealing what little air I have left.

Heat floods through my veins, burning under my skin, through my chest, and down my limbs.

It hurts so much that I can’t think. I can’t breathe; it just keeps going.

Goddess, will this ever end?

A silent scream rips through me, and then, everything changes. The pain isn’t gone, but it’s different—it stretches, twists, then sharpens into something else... power. It surges through me, sudden and overwhelming.

My senses snap open all at once. I can smell the earth beneath the snow and hear the pounding of a small heartbeat nearby.

I pull my eyelids open.

The world is sharper, brighter, cleaner around the edges.

I move—and freeze.

I’m not standing on two legs anymore, but on four. I test it without thinking. It feels natural, as if I was born for this.

I glance down, and my eyes widen; I’m covered in pure white fur, bright enough to catch the moonlight.

“Well,” a voice says, dry and unimpressed. “At least we didn’t come out disappointing.”

I go completely still.

“Wait…what?” I gasp.

“Oh good, you heard that,” she says and pauses. “I was about to start judging you out loud.”

My ears flick forward, startled. Where is this voice coming from?

“You… are you my wolf?” I stammer.

“Yes,” she says. “Congratulations. Took you long enough to notice me.”

I inhale slowly, trying to steady the rush of everything. I didn’t expect my wolf to be able to speak—was that even normal?

“It is,” she says, unimpressed. “How else do you think we communicate with our human?”

I ignore her, trying to understand any of this.

“What’s your name?” I manage to say.

“Seriously,” she growls. “Did the moon goddess pair me with—”

A name surfaces suddenly. “Tala,” I say, making her quiet.

“Mm. That’s better,” she says. “At least you didn’t call me something like ‘Shadowfang’; that would have pissed me off.”

The air shifts; my body reacts before my mind does, ears twitching and muscles tensing.

My gaze shifts toward the trees. I can feel eyes on me. Who would—

“There!” Tala says, pointing her muzzle at the edge of the clearing. Something—or someone—stands there, watching me.

An uncontrollable shiver rolls down my spine, and that same feeling of dread fills my insides. My body goes rigid, noticing the stillness in that figure.

“That’s not—” my voice trails off.

“Normal? Yes. I gathered,” Tala says, anxious. “The thing doesn’t move or even seem to breathe.”

“It just stands there,” I finish for her. “It’s watching….”

A cold feeling settles deep in my chest. Is it the same thing from my past?

“It sees us…” I mutter.

“Yes,” Tala says, quieter now, and fear fills me.

I blink once, and the figure is gone—no movement, no sound. Just… gone.

I step back, paws sinking into the snow. My senses stretch outward, searching for a lingering scent, movement, or noise, but I can’t find anything. There’s no trace at all; it’s as if that thing was never there.

“What was it?” I ask, hoping Tala recognizes the shadow.

“I don’t know,” she answers, sharper now. “And I don’t like not knowing.”

That hits harder than anything else.

“It wasn’t afraid,” I mumble, panic flaring in me.

“No,” she says. “Definitely not.”

“It’s going to come back,” I say; I can feel it in my bones.

“…yeah,” she replies.

I shift, restless now. “Maybe we should go.”

“Look at you,” Tala taunts. “Making decisions. I’m impressed. I was wondering when you’d finally run back home.”

I roll my eyes at her and turn toward the packhouse, its light barely visible through the trees.

“We’d better leave,” Tala adds. “That thing—whatever it is—I don’t want to face it tonight...”

“I know,” I say.

It being here wasn’t random; it must have known I was shifting tonight and was waiting for me.

I pick up my clothes and start running back to the packhouse. Snow kicks up beneath me, my body moving effortlessly, faster than it ever has before. But the feeling doesn’t fade; it’s sharper now—that thing, whatever it is, is coming for me, and I have no idea why....

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