The bite mark on my neck had been itching lately. Not in the annoying, can't-scratch-it-away way, but in a slow, constant reminder that something inside me was shifting. Every now and then, I’d catch the faint scent of pine sharper than usual, or hear footsteps from much farther away than I should. The changes were subtle, but unmistakable.
I’d tried to push them aside, focusing on my duties in the infirmary and my training sessions with the warriors, but today, as I stood at the edge of the training field, something felt… different. The crisp morning air carried the familiar scents of damp earth and the scent of the wolves warming up, but I could also pick up individual scents with surprising clarity. Ethan was a few yards away, and I could smell the pine resin on his clothes, along with
