Welto's body was trapped within the mass of crimson structures erupting from Ravien.
Thin, sticky tendrils wrapped tightly around his muscles, stripping away fur and binding his limbs tighter with every second.
He tried to muster his strength and escape— but the pressure only kept increasing.
And in that moment, he realized:
There was no escape.
His body grew heavier.
The control over his muscles slipped away.
His vision blurred. His breath caught in his throat.
One last time, he lifted his head and looked around.
In the distance, through the mist, he saw the silhouettes of his pack.
They didn't move.
As his gaze dimmed, he forced his lips to move, whispering:
"Goodbye…"
His voice was faint, barely audible even to himself.
There was a pause—then a final murmur:
"Alpha... may we meet again… in Wolf Heaven."
The moment the words left his mouth,
a shift began in Ravien's abdomen.
A low, guttural sound echoed as his flesh split open—
