AYLA – POV
The figure that stepped through the broken threshold wasn't a wolf.
Not fully.
It wore the shape of one. A silhouette stitched from memory. Fangs made of regret. Eyes formed from echoes I thought I'd buried.
It smiled.
Not a cruel smile. As if it had waited its whole life to meet me. The Spinner stepped back.
"Don't speak to it," they whispered. "It has no true name. If you name it—"
But I already had.
In a whisper.
In a dream.
The night I first defied the bond. I had named it Never. It moved like a shadow over a flame. Graceful and terrible.
"Luna," it said. "Or are you something else now?"
"I'm not yours," I replied.
It chuckled.
"You were always mine. You created me the moment you broke the bond."
I tightened my fingers around the spindle.
White.
My wolf stirred.
"Step back," I said.
"I can't," it replied. "I was made from what you left behind. And now, I'm here to reclaim it."
