Elowen's POV
I can't stop staring at my hands.
They're glowing—faint silver light mixed with gold, pulsing under my skin like a heartbeat. It's been happening all morning, getting stronger every hour.
"The poison is gone," Elder Rowena announces, checking my blood one final time. "Completely. After three weeks of treatment, your system is finally clean."
Three weeks. It feels like forever and no time at all.
"So why do I feel like I'm about to explode?" I ask, pressing my hands together to stop the shaking—or maybe the glowing. I can't tell which.
"Because your wolf wants out." Rowena smiles. "She's been caged for months, suppressed by wolfsbane. Now she's free, and she's ready to run."
My wolf. I haven't heard her voice clearly since before Thaddeus returned with Vesper. There was always just silence, or a weak whimper when I tried to shift.
But now? Now I feel her pacing inside me like a caged lion, powerful and restless and angry.
"What if I can't control her?" I whisper. "What if the shift goes wrong?"
"It won't," Corwin says from the doorway. I didn't hear him enter, but my wolf perks up at his presence. She likes him—trusts him in a way she never fully trusted Thaddeus. "Your wolf knows what to do. You just need to let her."
He walks into the room, and several Ironclaw pack members follow—warriors, healers, even some children. They're all watching me with curious, excited eyes.
"Why are they here?" I ask nervously.
"Witnesses," Corwin explains. "Your first true shift as a Healer Alpha should be witnessed. It's pack tradition for something this important."
Important. The word makes my stomach flip. I'm not important. I'm just Elowen, the exiled Luna who couldn't even defend herself.
Except... that's not true anymore, is it?
"Come outside," Corwin offers his hand. "Give yourself space. Let your wolf run free."
I take his hand, and electricity shoots up my arm where our skin touches. His eyes flash gold for just a second, and I wonder if he felt it too.
We walk outside to a large clearing behind the pack house. The Ironclaw wolves spread out in a circle, giving me room. The morning sun feels warm on my face, and the forest smells like pine and earth and freedom.
"Whenever you're ready," Rowena says gently. "There's no rush."
But my wolf disagrees. She's done waiting.
I close my eyes and reach for her—really reach, not the desperate, frightened grasping I've done for months. This time, she's there. Present. Powerful.
Finally, she growls in my mind. Let me OUT.
The shift hits me like lightning.
One second I'm standing on two legs. The next, my bones are breaking and reforming, my skin sprouting fur, my senses exploding into overwhelming clarity. It should hurt—shifting always hurts a little—but this feels like breaking out of prison.
When I open my eyes again, I'm on four legs.
The world looks different—sharper, brighter, more alive. I can smell everything: the rabbits hiding in the bushes, the deer a mile away, Corwin's scent of pine and storms right beside me.
Gasps echo around the clearing.
"Look at her!"
"She's huge!"
"I've never seen a silver wolf that size!"
I look down at myself—or try to. My paws are massive, my legs long and muscular. When I catch my reflection in a nearby stream, I freeze.
The wolf staring back at me is beautiful. Silver fur that shimmers like moonlight. Gray eyes that now flash with gold. I'm bigger than I ever was before—almost the size of an Alpha male.
We are Alpha, my wolf says proudly. This is who we always were. They just kept us small.
Emotions crash over me—rage at what was stolen from me, grief for the years I spent weak and suppressed, and joy at finally being whole.
A massive golden wolf appears beside me. Corwin. Even in wolf form, he's stunning—pure power and confidence. He's still bigger than me, but not by much.
He nudges my shoulder with his snout, a gentle encouragement. Then he takes off running into the forest.
My wolf doesn't hesitate. We chase him.
Running feels like flying. Trees blur past us. Wind whips through my fur. My muscles work perfectly, powerfully, carrying me faster than I ever imagined possible. Corwin runs ahead, glancing back to make sure I'm following, his golden eyes bright with approval.
We race through Ironclaw territory—over streams, under low branches, through meadows where deer scatter at our approach. Other Ironclaw wolves join us, running alongside in a pack formation. They're welcoming me, accepting me as one of them.
For the first time since Thaddeus returned with Vesper, I feel free.
We run for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes. Finally, we reach a cliff overlooking a valley. Corwin stops and sits, his tail wagging slightly. I collapse beside him, panting hard but grinning in that wolfish way.
Below us, Ironclaw territory stretches out beautiful and wild. In the distance, I can just barely see the borders of Silvercrest.
My old prison. The pack that threw me away.
They're fools, my wolf snarls. We could have protected them. Healed them. Led them. Instead they chose poison and lies.
I know she's right. But looking at Silvercrest from here—from safety, from freedom—I realize something.
I don't want to go back. Not to beg forgiveness. Not to prove I was innocent. Not even for revenge.
I want to move forward. Become who I was always meant to be. Build something new.
Corwin nudges me again, and we shift back to human form. Immediately, pack members appear with clothes—they'd followed us, apparently, making sure I was safe.
"How do you feel?" Corwin asks, slightly breathless from the run. His eyes are still more gold than usual, his wolf close to the surface.
I laugh—actually laugh—for the first time in weeks. "Alive. I feel alive."
His grin could light up the whole forest. "Good. Because you're magnificent, Elowen. That wolf—that's the real you. Powerful. Fast. Strong. Everything they tried to suppress."
"I never knew I could be this," I admit, looking at my hands. No longer glowing, but I can feel the power thrumming just beneath my skin, ready whenever I need it.
"Now you do. And now we make sure you can defend it." Corwin's expression turns serious. "Tomorrow morning, we start combat training. I'll teach you to fight, to use your Alpha strength properly. Because Vesper will come eventually. And when she does, I want you ready."
The mention of Vesper's name sends a chill through my joy. She's still out there. Still dangerous. Still the reason I lost everything.
"Do you think she knows?" I ask quietly. "That I'm alive? Getting stronger?"
"Rowena believes the poison had a trigger—a magical alarm that alerts whoever created it when you reach a certain strength level. If that's true, then yes. She probably knows."
My newfound confidence wavers. "What if I'm not ready? What if she comes before I learn to fight?"
"Then I'll protect you until you are ready," Corwin says firmly. He steps closer, his hand gentle on my shoulder. "You're not alone anymore, Elowen. You're pack now. Ironclaw's pack. My pack. And we protect our own."
The word "pack" hits differently than it used to. In Silvercrest, pack meant duty, service, sacrifice. Here, with Corwin's hand warm on my shoulder and Ironclaw wolves surrounding us with acceptance in their eyes, pack means family.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Stop thanking me," he says, but he's smiling. "Just get strong. Get ready. And when Vesper comes—"
He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to.
When Vesper comes, I won't be the weak, poisoned Luna she destroyed. I'll be a Healer Alpha. Powerful. Dangerous. Ready.
We walk back toward the pack house together, Ironclaw wolves following respectfully. I feel different—taller, stronger, more myself than I've been in months.
But as we approach the clearing, every wolf suddenly goes still. Noses lift to the air. Low growls rumble through the group.
"What is it?" I ask, my new instincts flaring to life.
Corwin's expression turns deadly. "Someone's crossed our borders. Multiple someones. They're heading this way."
My heart stops. "Already? But I just got the poison out—"
"The trigger," Corwin growls. "It must have activated the moment you shifted. Elowen, get behind me. Now."
But I can already smell them—wolves I don't recognize, their scents sharp with aggression. Through the trees, I see movement. Shadows.
Then they step into the clearing, and my blood turns to ice.
Five rogue wolves, all massive and battle-scarred. And leading them, her violet eyes gleaming with malice, is someone I recognize from Silvercrest's visiting dignitaries.
Not Vesper. Someone worse.
A woman with black hair and cruel smile steps forward. "Elowen Frost. What a surprise. We were told you were dead."
"Who are you?" I demand, even though I'm terrified.
Her smile widens. "I'm Nyx. Vesper's sister. And I'm here to finish what she started."