The shipping container yard smelled like rust, old oil, and wolf musk thick enough to taste. Dawn light filtered through gaps in the stacked metal boxes, turning everything the color of tarnished copper. Elara woke curled on a pile of flattened cardboard inside Jude's "den"—one of the lower containers he'd claimed with a heavy padlock and a curtain made from old tarps.
Her body ached in new places: muscles she didn't know she had, joints that felt stretched and reset. The shift last night had been cleaner than the first, but it still left her raw. She sat up slowly, Jude's oversized shirt hanging loose on her frame. It smelled like him now—smoke, earth, and a hint of something sharp like cloves.
Outside, the fire drum from last night still smoldered. Tayo crouched beside it, feeding it scraps of wood. Chidi was perched on a crate, fiddling with a cracked phone screen, muttering about signal. Jude stood at the edge of the yard, back to them, staring toward the Apapa-Oshodi expressway where morning traffic already roared.
Elara stepped out barefoot. The concrete was cold and gritty under her soles.
Jude didn't turn. "You shift quiet this morning. Good."
"I didn't shift," she said. "Just woke up human."
He glanced over his shoulder. Amber-flecked eyes assessing. "Control coming fast for a fresh turn. Most new ones fight the skin for weeks."
Tayo snorted without looking up. "Most new ones also beg to go home to mummy after the first full moon. This one ate raw offal like it was suya."
Elara felt heat rise in her cheeks but didn't deny it. Hunger like that didn't leave room for shame.
Chidi finally looked up. "You gonna eat or what? We got goat left. And rice if you want to pretend you're still city girl."
She took the plate Tayo shoved at her—tin, dented, heaped with cold jollof and shredded meat. She ate standing, fast, the flavors exploding brighter than before the bite. Spice burned her tongue in the best way.
Jude watched her finish. "Rules here: no questions about how we got turned. No running to Ironfang for help. No bringing trouble we can't handle. You pull your weight—hunt, guard, scavenge—or you leave. Clear?"
"Clear."
He nodded once. "Then today you train. Can't have you tripping over your own paws when real trouble comes."
Tayo grinned, all teeth. "Oh, this'll be fun."
They moved to an open space between containers—a rough circle of cracked concrete littered with broken bottles and rusted rebar. No grass, no softness. Just Lagos grit.
Jude stripped off his shirt, revealing a torso mapped with scars: claw marks, bullet holes that had healed wrong, burns in patterns that looked ritualistic. He rolled his shoulders. "First lesson: shift on command. Not when moon forces it. Not when scared. When you say."
Elara swallowed. "I only did it last night because you told me to."
"Then do it again. Focus. Feel the wolf. Don't fight—invite."
She closed her eyes. Reached for the heat in her chest. It was there, coiled like a spring. She pictured fur, claws, power. Pushed.
Pain flared—sharp but shorter. Bones shifted with wet cracks. Fur rolled over skin. In seconds she stood as wolf: black pelt gleaming, silver streaks catching the weak sun like veins of ore. Larger than last night. Steadier.
Tayo whistled. "Ẹhn-ẹn. Look at her. Already filling out."
Chidi edged back a step. "Eyes are brighter too. Like moonlight trapped."
Jude crouched to her level again. "Good. Now hold it. Walk."
She took a step—awkward at first, paws splaying. Then another. Muscle memory kicking in from last night's blind run. She circled the clearing, tail low but not tucked.
"Run," Jude said.
She did.
The yard blurred. Concrete flashed under paws. She leaped over a stack of tires, landed clean, spun. Wind rushed past her ears. For the first time since the bite, something felt right.
When she skidded to a stop in front of Jude, panting, he nodded. "Shift back."
Human again. Breathing hard. Naked but not caring. The shift was getting easier—less tearing, more flowing.
"Now the hard part," Tayo said, stepping forward. She pulled off her own top, revealing lean muscle and a long scar across her ribs. "Spar. Wolf against wolf."
Elara blinked. "I don't know how to fight like this."
"Exactly. Learn."
Tayo shifted in a blink—smaller than Elara but wiry, fur dark brown with russet tips, eyes sharp green. She growled low, playful but edged.
Elara shifted back to wolf. Instinct took over.
They circled.
Tayo lunged first—fast, low, aiming for shoulder. Elara twisted, clumsy but instinctive, jaws snapping air. Tayo rolled away, came up biting at flank. Teeth grazed fur. Elara yelped, spun, swiped with front paw. Claws raked air.
"Use your weight!" Jude barked. "You're bigger—don't dance, charge."
Elara lowered her head and barreled forward. Tayo tried to dodge but Elara clipped her side, sent her skidding across concrete. Tayo popped up snarling, blood on her muzzle from a shallow cut.
She shifted human, laughing through the sting. "Okay, fresh blood has bite. I like it."
Jude stepped in. "Enough for now. Rest. Tonight we hunt."
The day passed in fragments: resting in shade, sharing stories without asking for origins, scavenging food from nearby markets (Chidi's quick fingers lifted bread and plantain without anyone noticing). Elara learned scraps—how to mask scent with motor oil and ash, how to move through crowds without drawing eyes, how rogues survived in a city that belonged to packs.
As sun set, the pull came again. Not the mate bond—something older. Deeper. Like the earth itself calling.
Jude felt it too. "Blood moon aftershocks. Makes prey restless. Good for hunting."
They moved as a unit toward the mangroves edging the lagoon—where the city bled into swamp. Humans avoided it after dark. Perfect.
The hunt was silent at first. Jude led, nose to wind. Then scent hit: wild pig, rooting near the water.
They spread out.
Elara's wolf thrilled. This was purpose. This was pack, even if temporary.
She flushed the pig from cover. It squealed, charged. Jude took the throat in one clean leap. Tayo and Chidi pinned flanks. Elara went for the hamstrings—instinct perfect.
The kill was quick. Hot blood steamed in the night air.
They ate in wolf form, tearing into warm meat. No words. Just growls of satisfaction, the crunch of bone.
When they shifted back, blood-smeared and sated, Jude looked at Elara across the carcass.
"You're not just surviving," he said quietly. "You're thriving. Whatever old blood runs in you, it's waking up."
Elara wiped her mouth. "Old blood?"
Tayo exchanged a glance with Jude. "Stories. Before the packs divided, before colonial lines cut territories, there were wolves tied to the land itself. Orisha-wolves. Guardians. Bitten ones rarely carry it—but when they do..."
Chidi finished softly, "They don't stay rogue long. Either they die fast, or they build something bigger."
Elara stared at the lagoon, water black under stars. Somewhere across it, Ironfang lights glowed like distant fireflies.
Kael was there. Probably pacing his compound. Feeling echoes through the frayed bond—her hunt, her strength, her growing control.
She smiled—small, fierce.
Let him feel it.
Because the girl he rejected wasn't gone.
She was just getting started.