The world comes back to me in pieces.
Not in the way waking usually feels. There is no slow blink of awareness, no heaviness in limbs that need time to return. There are no limbs at all. At first there is only sound. Raw sound. The scrape of stone under claws. A growl vibrating in a throat that does not feel like mine. Wind slicing over fur. The distant heartbeat of a forest that no longer feels familiar.
Then the sight snaps into place.
I am standing on a ridge near the clearing, looking down at Adam. I see him with eyes that burn silver and cut through the darkness. I see everything. Every line of fear on his face. Every breath he takes. Every twitch of muscle under his skin.
But I see it from too high. From too far forward. From a body that is not the shape I know.
A massive silver
