AYLA – POV
My heart thundered like war drums in the silent aftermath. The moon‑lit wolf—impossible, burning with moonfire—stood before me, its fur haloed in silver. Its eyes were twin moons. Its voice, when it came, wasn't spoken; it vibrated deep in my chest:
"My Luna."
Time fractured. Around us, Council emissaries trembled, torches flickered, and guards blinked as if reality had slipped its seams.
Kael leaped beside me, one arm threading around my waist, grounding me in flesh while the wolf anchored me in legend.
What am I? echoed in my bones. The First Luna did not whisper. She simply answered through the beast—I am your return.
I swallowed thunder. My tongue stiffened around words that couldn't bend.
Kael squeezed me. His breath was a tether between past and now.
"Who are you?" I managed, voice raw as ash.
The wolf dipped its head. A pulse of light rippled across its flank.
"We are Alma. First-born of the Moon. Reclaimed." Its voice fell over my skin like rain.
