Elara
The cold clung to the morning like a second skin.
The ground still held the memory of last night’s howl. I could feel it in my bones as I walked across the ceremonial path that wound behind the stone arena. The scent of scorched herbs and pine drifted in the early air. My limbs still ached from the rawness of what I’d let out, from the truth that escaped through my throat and touched the sky.
The memory of Dominic’s stare still haunted me i was confused scarred.
But Olivia’s hand on my back, her proud smile that stayed longer. It warmed the part of me that had gone cold.
"Ready for round two?" she asked, her voice light but sharp.
I nodded. Barely.
Round two of the Howl of the Wild was a different test. Not just instinct and soul, but control. Harmony. Voice.
Each participant
