Hope

It feels like my body isn’t mine.

Heavy. Stiff. Distant.

Like I’ve been floating somewhere far away and just slammed back into skin and bone.

I try to move my fingers. They twitch sluggishly.

My eyes are glued shut, my lashes sticky against my cheeks. My wolf stirs deep in my mind, stretching slowly like she’s been asleep too long.

Where… am I?

“Don’t try to move so quickly,” a masculine voice says, low and smooth. “You’ll get a head rush like you wouldn’t believe.”

I know this voice. But it isn't something familiar, like family. It's the voice of someone I see in passing, maybe?

Warm hands slip...