Her scream does not sound human anymore. It rips out of her throat in layers, deeper than her voice should ever reach. One note sits on top of another, and another, until the sound becomes something ancient. The kind of sound that does not belong in a mortal body. The kind that makes the ridge tremble under our feet.
Her spine arches. Silver ropes coil tight around her wrists and ribs, glowing bright enough to hurt my eyes. For a second they hold. Then thin cracks race through them like lightning.
I see her chest jolt. Her breath drags in. Her eyes glow silver from within.
Her wolf is trying to break through.
The creature hovers above her. Its shape flickers like a shadow caught in a storm. No real edges. No scent. Only cold that crawls along the ground. Its head tilts as if listening
