Adriel's POV
The moon was wrong.
I stood on the rooftop long past midnight, arms wrapped around myself, staring up at a slice of silver trapped between steel towers. It felt distant here—filtered, diluted—like a memory rather than a presence. The bond ache pulsed faintly in my chest, an old wound that refused to heal.
Back home, the moon had ruled everything.
It was decided when we ran, when we changed, when we belonged.
Here, it barely reached me.
And yet… my wolf stirred.
Not restless. Not afraid.
Awake.
I frowned, pressing my palm to my sternum. "What are you doing?" I whispered.
The city breathed beneath me—sirens, engines, the low hum of power lines. The wind tugged at my hair, carrying scents that weren't forest or pack: metal, rain, human sweat, electricity. My senses sharpened without warning, the world snapping into painful clarity.
I sucked in a breath.
That was new.
I hadn't shifted since the night I fled. Fear had locked my wolf behind bone and skin, like a door barred from the inside. Shifting without permission—without safety—had always been dangerous.
Impossible, the elders said.
Only under the moon.
Only with control.
Only with approval.
Heat bloomed under my skin, slow and deliberate. Not the wild surge of panic from the ceremony. This felt… calm. Curious. Like something stretching after a long sleep.
"Stop," I whispered again, more uncertain than commanding.
The heat didn't stop.
It spread.
My heartbeat slowed instead of racing. My breath evened out. My muscles hummed—not with pain, but with readiness. I staggered back from the ledge, hands trembling as my nails lengthened slightly, darkening at the tips.
I stared at them, stunned.
"No," I breathed. "That's not..."
My bones shifted with a soft, terrifying grace.
Not breaking.
Bending.
I cried out—not in agony, but in shock as my spine elongated, shoulders rolling, joints aligning themselves as if they had always known where to go. Fur spilled across my arms like spilled ink, silver-black and warm.
I dropped to my knees as the change completed itself.
The city tilted.
Then steadied.
I lifted my head.
The world was… incredible.
Every sound layered perfectly—footsteps three floors below, the flutter of a pigeon's wings, the faint crackle of a neon sign across the street. Scents painted pictures: rain coming, oil on concrete, fear somewhere nearby.
I looked down at myself.
Paws.
Claws.
For catching the city light.
I had shifted.
Fully.
Without the moon.
A laugh tore out of me, half hysterical, half awed. I threw my head back and let it spill into the night—a sound that wasn't quite a howl, but close enough that it made my chest ache.
I did this.
No Goddess.
No pack.
No Alpha.
Just me.
I paced the rooftop, marveling at the strength in my limbs, the balance, the way the wind spoke directly to my instincts. This wasn't the tight, controlled shift the elders demanded.
This was freedom.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
I froze.
The hum of the city changed pitch, deepening like a warning. The air crackled around me, raising the fur along my spine. Power—my power—rose again, answering something unseen.
"What is happening?" I growled, the sound rough and unfamiliar in my throat.
The rooftop door banged open.
"Adriel!"
Mason's voice.
Panic shot through me. I spun toward the door just as he stepped out and stopped dead.
His eyes widened.
For a heartbeat, we stared at each other.
Me: a wolf where a woman should be.
Him: human, frozen between awe and fear.
"I..." He swallowed. "Okay. Okay. Don't move."
I bristled instinctively, hackles lifting.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, hands raised. "I swear."
I searched his face for deceit, for the recoil I'd seen a thousand times in the pack.
There was none.
Only shock.
And something else.
Recognition.
I took a cautious step back, then focused—really focused—the way the old woman at the edge of the pack lands once taught me to breathe when my wolf grew restless.
The shift reversed itself like a tide pulling back.
Bone softened. Fur retreated. Skin returned.
I collapsed to the ground, human again, breathless and shaking.
Mason crossed the distance in two strides, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders without hesitation. "You okay?"
"I..." My voice broke. I pressed my hands to my chest, laughing and crying all at once. "I did it. Without the moon. I didn't even try."
He stared at me, wonder flickering across his face. "That's… not supposed to be possible."
"They said I was unnatural," I whispered. "A mistake."
He shook his head slowly. "They were wrong."
I clutched the jacket tighter, grounding myself in the scent of him—coffee, cedar, something warm. "What if I can't control it?"
"You just did," he said simply. "And you stopped when you wanted to."
I looked up at him. "I felt something else. Like… like the city answered me."
His expression shifted—guarded now. "Answered how?"
"As it listened," I said. "Like it knew."
Mason exhaled through his nose. "That explains a few things."
My stomach dropped. "Explains what?"
He hesitated, then sighed. "I didn't want to tell you yet. I wasn't sure it mattered."
"Mason," I said sharply. "Tell me."
"There have been anomalies," he said. "Power surges. Grid fluctuations. They spike when you're near."
Silence stretched between us.
I stared at my hands.
"You mean," I said slowly, "this place… reacts to me."
"Yes."
A chill slid down my spine. The elders' words echoed back with cruel clarity.
Dangerous.
Unstable.
Abomination.
I wasn't just a wolf who broke rules.
I was something else entirely.
Before I could respond, a sharp pain stabbed through my chest—hot and sudden. I gasped, stumbling as the bond ache flared brighter than it had since the ceremony.
I knew that pain.
I hated that pain.
"No," I whispered.
Mason caught my arm. "What is it?"
"He's here," I said, voice hollow. "Not close. But close enough."
The air shifted.
The wind changed direction.
A presence pressed against my senses—familiar, commanding, infuriatingly calm.
Alex Nightshade.
My wolf snarled, rising instantly, furious and eager in equal measure.
"I won't go back," I said, anger blazing through the fear. "I won't be caged again."
Mason's jaw tightened. "You won't be."
Then the lights across the skyline went out.
Block by block.
Street by street.
The city plunged into darkness except for one place.
The rooftop.
Where silver light bloomed around me, pouring from my skin like moonfire.
Mason stared.
I stared.
And somewhere in the dark, a howl answered mine—deep, powerful, and far too close.
As the city's power died and my own burned brighter than ever, one terrifying truth slammed into me—Alex hadn't come for the bond… he'd come for the power I didn't know I had.