The shift inside Avery wasn’t a gradual awakening; it was an absolute crystallization. As she walked through the double doors of the campus library toward the advanced behavioral sciences wing, she didn't creep along the walls like a ghost trying to blend into the brickwork. She walked directly down the center of the polished linoleum corridor, the steady, rhythmic heels of her combat boots striking the floor with the precise, heavy weight of an executioner's step.
Her broad shoulders were perfectly squared, her posture straight and unyielding. The raw, majestic frequency of her Lycan dominance—previously buried beneath layers of cautious, defensive anxiety—now bled out into the hallway like a tangible, invisible mist.
The low-ranking pack wolves lingering by the lockers felt the change
