Aria bolted upright in bed, breath tearing through her lungs, a thin sheen of sweat slicking her skin. Her sheets clung to her legs, tangled like vines, binding her to the nightmare she hadn’t fully escaped. Her heart slammed against her ribs, wild and panicked, the phantom ache of bruises still pulsing beneath her skin.Just a dream.But not really.The images were still too clear. The crack of his voice. The sharp sting of the slap. The heat of her own blood trickling from her mouth. Even now, years later, her wolf whimpered inside her, tucked tightly in a coil of shame and helpless rage.She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, trying to breathe.The sky outside her window was still dark, though the faintest blush of morning stretched across the horizon. Aria sat in silence, letting the cold air in the room cool the heat in her bones. Her eyes burned, but no tears fell.“You’re not there anymore,” she whispered, voice hoarse.Her wolf stirred softly, purring low and sad, like an
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