Cierra:
The sun rose thin and reluctant, as though even it dreaded what the day demanded of me. Light bled into the cabin in pale streaks, spilling over the cot, catching on the remnants of the night we'd carved out for ourselves — Dominic's torn shirt on the floor, the half-emptied water skin by the hearth, the faint scent of smoke, sweat, and him still clinging to my skin.
For one fragile breath, before I opened my eyes, I let myself believe that time had stopped — that there were no elders, no trials, no pack waiting for me to either rise or fall. Just him. Just us.
But when I turned my head, reality was already there.
Dominic sat at the edge of the cot, his head bowed, his fists pressed tight against his knees as though holding himself together by sheer will. His shoulders looked h
