Aria woke before dawn.
The room was still dark, the window a square of deep blue fading to grey at the edges. She had slept poorly, her mind scattered with fragments of the day before. The flickering presence at the edge of her awareness. She had pushed it aside, told herself it was exhaustion. But now, lying in the quiet dark, she couldn't ignore it anymore.
She rose and dressed up in her training clothes. The scarf went around her neck last, hiding the mark. She was reaching for her water flask when she heard it.
“Hello, Aria.”
Aria froze. Her hand stopped mid-air. The voice was not her own. It was soft, barely a whisper, but it resonated through her mind like a bell struck underwater. Feminine and clear.
“Who—“
“I am Nova. Your wolf.”
“My wolf,” she breathed. The words came out a
