SKEET POV - CHAPTER 40
Time has a sound.
Most people think it’s silence. Or ticking. Or the steady, predictable rhythm of seconds stacking neatly on top of one another. They’re wrong. Time doesn’t move politely. It breathes. It stretches. It pulls tight around your chest when something is wrong—when a moment is being rushed, twisted, or stolen before it’s ready.
Right now—
Time is screaming.
I stand at the edge of Canis Lupus territory, boots sinking slightly into soil that shouldn’t be vibrating the way it is. The ground hums beneath my feet in uneven pulses, like a heartbeat struggling to keep rhythm. Every vibration crawls up my spine, settling behind my eyes.
This isn’t natural.
This isn’t how awakening is supposed to feel.
The night air is sharp, carrying the scent of pine and
