CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The cold rush of air against my fur hushes as I feel my feet graze the earth, the sensation grounding me—a stark contrast to the chaos of moments before. My breaths come in short gasps, not from the exertion, but from the disbelief that I, Grace, the she-wolf who couldn't shift, had just flown. My hands tremble slightly, and a shiver races down my spine—not from fear, but from exhilaration.
"Grace!" Lucas's voice cuts through the silence that descended after the earthquake, his tone laced with concern and something more, something warm and protective. He rushes toward me, his eyes scanning my body for injuries. "Are you okay?" he asks, his hand reaching out as if to steady me.
With mere thought, I shift back into my human form. Gone are the wings. Gone is the fur. I
