EMBER’S POV

The shift happens all at once, violent and instantaneous, his clothes shredding, his body growing, bones cracking and reforming faster than my eyes can track. The arrows snap and fall away as his body expands, pushed out by the sheer force of the transformation.

I scramble backward on instinct, palms scraping against snow and rock, heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurts.

The beast rises to its full height.

Eight feet tall. Maybe more. Fur darker than the night around us, matted with blood but somehow still terrifying instead of wounded.

Claws like curved daggers. Teeth that could crush bone without effort. And those eyes —...