The morning after her wolf woke up, the world sounded, tasted, and smelled like an entirely different planet.

Nila sat at the small wooden table by the window in Kaelen’s suite, her fingers curled around a mug of hot milk spiced with nutmeg. She hadn't thrown herself into a corner when she woke up this morning. She had remained under the heavy plush blankets for a few quiet minutes, marveling at the absence of the deep, gnawing fatigue that usually weighted her bones.

"You're tracking the birds," a low, amused voice noted from the doorway.

Nila blinked, turning her head. Kaelen stood there, a wide wooden tray balanced on one...