My Blood Wizard System
Every shifter in the circle tilts their head back and howls (one long, perfect note that makes the stars feel closer).
Then they shift.
Fur and moonlight and joy.
Remy’s mom (Lena Tsatoke, tiny, fierce, eyes the exact gold Remy got from her) walks up to me barefoot, wearing a dress the color of river clay.
She takes my hands.
Lena (soft, proud):
“My mother dreamed you before any of us were born.
She said the storm queen would have pink shoes and a mouth that never learned to lie.
She was right.”
She presses something into my palm: a second blackbird bead, this one carved from jet and river stone.