Mag-log inJuneNow alone in the room, I push the blanket off my legs and slowly stand from the bed.For a second, I wait.I know this feeling too well. The moment after transforming back. The sharp wave that usually tears through my body without warning, forcing me to curl into myself until it passes. Every bone aching, every muscle burning like I have been ripped apart and stitched back together wrong.I brace for it automatically as my feet touch the floor.But nothing happens.I straighten carefully, my hand hovering near my side as I take a cautious step forward.Still nothing.A faint ache lingers beneath the bandage, but it is nowhere near what I am used to. It is manageable. Ordinary, even.My brow furrows.Maybe it is because I have been lying down.That has to be it.I start walking slowly around the room, expecting the pain to strike once I move more. My eyes drift toward the door, then the window, my thoughts turning faster with every step I take.But nothing hits me.No sharp agony.
JuneI am propped up against a stack of pillows, still getting used to being back in my own body, when Caleb walks in with a bowl in his hands. The scent reaches me before he even gets close. Something warm. Simple. Comforting in a way I do not have a name for.He pulls a chair closer to the bed and sits down without saying much. His focus is on the bowl, on making sure it is not too hot, on doing something as ordinary as bringing me food like it matters more than anything else right now.I watch him quietly.There is something different about this moment. No urgency. No danger. Just this quiet space where it is only the two of us.He lifts the spoon, dips it into the soup, and pauses. Then he brings it closer to his lips and blows on it gently, testing the heat before turning it toward me.“Careful,” he murmurs. “It’s still warm.”For a second, I do not move.I just look at him.At the way he holds the spoon like this is something he has decided to do, not something he feels forced i
JuneOne minute I am standing there, watching Hayden and his men, every muscle in my body tight and ready, and the next everything slips.It is not gradual. It is not something I can fight.It just… goes dark.Something inside me pulls back, like I am being gently but firmly pushed away from the front of my own mind. My thoughts scatter, my control loosens, and then I am no longer the one holding the reins.I am still here.Just differently.Earlier, I didn't understand what happened to me... but now, when I am aware of my wolf... I can feel what happens. I cannot see what is happening out there, not clearly, but I can feel it. I can feel her.My wolf.She rises without hesitation, without doubt, filling the place I left behind like she was always meant to. There is no confusion in her, no second guessing. Only purpose.And I know what that purpose is.Hayden.His men.The threat.A small part of me tries to reach forward, tries to hold onto something, to stay connected, but it slips
CalebIf Sophia were here… the thought comes uninvited, slipping into my mind and refusing to leave. I would have asked her to help June. I know what she can do. I have seen it. The way she takes pain, the way she pulls it out like it is nothing but a burden she can carry.I drag a hand over my face, exhaling slowly.It is selfish. I know it is. Wanting someone else to take June’s pain, to fix this when I cannot. But I do not know what else to do. Sitting here, watching her lie still while time keeps moving forward, is slowly eating away at me.The doctor checked her again not long ago. Same results. The wound is healing now. Slowly, but it is healing. Everything in her body is doing what it should.Except for one thing.She has not woken up.I sit there for a long moment, staring at her, trying to find any sign that something is changing. A twitch. A shift. Anything.There is nothing.The doctor did not look concerned. That is the part that frustrates me the most. He stood there, cal
Caleb The doctor finishes his examination and steps back from the bed, his expression thoughtful in a way that does nothing to ease the tension sitting in my chest. I watch him closely, searching his face for something concrete. Something I can hold onto. “There is nothing structurally wrong,” he says after a moment, his voice calm, clinical. “She should be healing.” Should be. The words echo in my head long after he says them. Because she is not. I shift my gaze back to June, lying motionless against the white sheets. The bandage wrapped around her side is clean now, the bleeding stopped after the silver bullet was removed. Everything looks as it should on the surface. But it is not. Her healing is slow. Too slow. Slower than I have ever seen from any wolf. Slower than it should be, even for a human. And that thought alone is enough to make something restless stir inside me. My wolf does not like this. Neither do I. The doctor gives a few final instructions before leaving t
Caleb Her weight settles against me, warm and real, and for a second everything else fades. The noise, the people, the bodies scattered across the yard. None of it matters. It is just her in my arms, her head tipped back against my shoulder, her breath shallow against my neck. “June,” I murmur, but there is no response. I adjust my grip and lift her fully, cradling her against my chest. Her arm hangs loose at her side, her fingers still stained red. My jaw tightens as I look down at her, taking in every detail like I need to memorize that she is still here. Then I see it. The wound on her side. My frown deepens instantly as I shift her slightly, careful not to jostle her too much. The fabric near her ribs is soaked through, darker than it should be. That wound should have been closing by now. It should have at least started to heal. But it has not. It is still raw. Still bleeding. Something cold slides into my chest. Footsteps approach, quick and familiar. Jake, Lucas, and
AuroraLucas is sitting close enough that our knees touch when he shifts. Caleb is across from us, relaxed, joking, eating like this is just another morning. If I only look at the surface, it feels normal. Easy.But I know better than to only look at the surface.Lucas lifts his cup, takes a sip, t
AuroraThe sight becomes familiar the moment the car slows.I recognize the open stretch before my mind fully catches up. The last time I was here, everything shifted. I learned that my father loves me in the quiet, clumsy way men like him do. I learned the truth about my mother, not the polished v
AuroraI have been at this for hours.I know because the light has changed. It starts soft, gentle, brushing my skin like it is only passing through. Now it presses down, heavy and bright, sitting on my shoulders like it plans to stay. The morning slips into afternoon without asking me, and the sun
LucasAurora walks toward us before I can get my thoughts in order. I notice the way her steps shorten when she is serious, like she is conserving something. She stops in front of Ryan, tilting her head just slightly, eyes sharp but not accusing.“Your mother?” she asks. “But why?”Ryan swallows. I







