Deborah's POV
As we traveled together, the seven of us moved steadily through the expanse of desert and barren fields, with a quiet, palpable awkwardness lingering with each step.
Between Matthew and me, an invisible wall seemed to hang, separating us, with an unspoken tension woven into every moment our gazes accidentally met, leaving the air thick and frozen.
John was distinctly cold toward me, his eyes occasionally showing a flicker of resentment—no doubt due to my role in Mary's sacrifice.
Alex was steady and polite, though our exchanges were minimal.
Only Jac seemed at ease, always finding ways to lighten the mood with his easy-going nature.
Meanwhile, Jim and Mike, close in age and with similar experiences, often stuck together, joking and chatting, adding a much-needed bit of levity.
Perhaps it was because of these strained dynamics that Mike, the "little wolf cub," stayed close to me. I found his presence comforting amid the complexities around me.
I couldn't help noticing Matthew's jealous glances in our direction, but I could do little about it.
The last thing I wanted was to see him torn between the grief and guilt over his mother and whatever feelings he still held for me.
Days later, we finally emerged from the desert, and a quiet, secluded forest stretched before us.
The full moon was drawing near, and tonight would be Mike's first transformation.
While Matthew, John, Alex, Jac, and Jim all feigned indifference—especially John, whose attitude toward Mike bordered on outright mockery—I could see the concern beneath it all. After all, Mike was a young werewolf like them, bound by the same identity and fate.
For some reason, I felt particularly invested in Mike's transformation, maybe because I hadn't been there for Matthew's first shift. It left me with a quiet sense of responsibility, a need to support Mike in a way I couldn't for Matthew.
The contradiction was clear to me, yet I couldn't shake the feeling.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and night blanketed the forest in a tranquil hush, moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a gentle silver sheen on the forest floor, an ethereal stillness in the air.
Mike knelt in the moonlight, hands trembling, his face a mixture of nervousness and dread.
He looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear and dependence.
"Deb, you need to stay back," Matthew said, stepping forward, his voice calm but firm. "It's dangerous for you to be close to him now."
Mike's head snapped toward me, desperation etched into his face. "Debbie, I need you… I'd never hurt you, Debbie… it hurts so much."
His voice carried a faint plea, a depth of trust and reliance that I couldn't look away from.
Seeing him hunched over, panting with an effort, I reached out, stroking his hair at a steady pace, my fingers weaving through his dark strands as I tried to soothe him with the gentle motion.
His body shook as his bones began to reshape beneath his skin, the sickening crack of shifting bones filling the air.
The painful sound tore at me, conjuring images of Matthew's first shift in the ruins, and the way he, too, had suffered beneath the same moonlight, enduring agony that words could scarcely describe.
Gradually, Mike's form shifted and grew, fur pushing through his skin—a coat of pure, snowy white.
In the moonlight, his form was tall and powerful, merging with the silver glow of the night.
I held my breath as I watched him complete his transformation, an overwhelming blend of emotions rising within me.
Mike was a white wolf Alpha as well, but his pack had perished in Falias. Tonight, he stood alone, carrying a solitary fate.
Seeing him struggle, my heart twisted, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Just then, Matthew suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "You have to step away!" he insisted, his face taut with concern. "The first shift makes him highly aggressive. He could hurt you."
I resisted, pulling against his hold, my gaze fixed on Mike as I softly replied, "He wouldn't hurt me. Can't you see how much pain he's in?"
John scoffed, his tone dismissive. "Perfectly normal. Every werewolf goes through this. Even Matthew."
I turned to Matthew, searching his face with silent pleading and confusion. His expression faltered, his gaze softening as he let out a small sigh. "You… you're crying for Mike…"
At that moment, Mike let out a low growl, rising to his feet, a fierce wildness blazing in his eyes.
He threw back his head and howled, a haunting sound that seemed to shiver the very air around us.
Suddenly, he bolted into the dense forest, disappearing into the shadows.
I started forward, intent on following him, but Matthew caught my arm again.
He held my gaze, silently willing me to stay calm.
Jac placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Let him go. After the first shift, he needs space to adjust, to get familiar with his strength. We've all been through it."
Reluctantly, I glanced at the trees, a lingering worry tightening my chest.
The sky began to lighten, the faint glow of dawn creeping over the horizon, and it seemed the sun would soon rise, bringing with it a new day.
Matthew and the others invited me to sit by the campfire, where we gathered, talking about recent events in Tirfothuinn.
Matthew spoke of Cora, who filled every day with energy as she cared for the children of Tirnanog, breathing fresh life into the underground world.
David had become Mrs. Barrett's trusted aide, constantly busy with duties. Listening to them share these pieces of home brought a quiet reassurance, though concern for Mike lingered at the back of my mind.
Then, suddenly, the five werewolves around me fell silent, their expressions tense, as if they sensed something.
"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.
Matthew lifted his head, eyes scanning the distance. "Something's off. There's movement—lots of it."
"More of those scorpions?" I guessed, instantly on guard.
Matthew shook his head. "Doesn't seem like it. This time, the sound's coming from above. Whatever it is, it's surrounding us."
My heart raced, and I glanced toward the forest edge, worried. "What about Mike?"
Matthew drew in a deep breath, his eyes not wavering. "He's a werewolf now. In his wolf form, he can handle himself. Don't worry."
The reassurance calmed me, if only slightly.
Looking into the distance, I noticed dark shapes moving swiftly through the sky.
They seemed to be a group of flying creatures, hurtling toward us with alarming speed.
Their forms were hard to discern, but they resembled owls—though much larger than ordinary ones, almost human-sized.
"Are those… mutant owls?" I murmured, feeling a chill run through me.
"What are they afraid of?" Jim asked, clearly unnerved.
The answer came to me in a flash. "The sun! They're nocturnal!"
Without hesitation, I raised my right hand, closed my eyes, and whispered, "Solar Flare!"
The sky darkened even further, swallowing the moonlight as clouds churned and obscured the last of the stars.
The sky roiled with a powerful energy, a force building in the darkness.
I fought a wave of doubt; it was my first time casting this spell, and I wasn't sure it would work.
In the same moment, Matthew and the others swiftly shifted into their wolf forms, standing protectively before me, growling low in readiness for the attack.
They leap into action with a fluid intensity, meeting the oncoming owls in a seamless display of precision and ferocity.
Each wolf moves as if guided by an unspoken rhythm, muscles coiled and ready, their sharp fangs glinting as they sink into their targets with ruthless efficiency, driving them back into the shadows.
Every strike and lunge is executed with flawless control, swift and clean, each movement a perfect balance of primal grace and raw, unbridled strength.
Together, they form a wall of power, pushing against the relentless force of the owls with a coordinated rhythm, their bodies a blur of fur and muscle, fangs flashing as they tear through the night.
The wolves are an unstoppable force, an unyielding storm of power and instinct, reclaiming the ground inch by inch, forcing the monstrous owls to falter and retreat.
As the wolves fought, a faint light began to break through the clouds above.
The first rays of dawn pierced the darkness, spilling over the forest as the sun finally broke over the horizon, flooding the scene with its warm, blinding light.
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting bright patches across the ground, too intense to look at directly.
The owls screeched in distress, their wings flapping frantically as they tried to escape the searing light.
They veered away in a panicked retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, leaving nothing but silence.
Once I was sure they were gone, I ended the spell.
The light in the sky dimmed, returning to the soft glow of early morning as the moonlight gently reappeared.
I exhaled in relief, grateful for the quiet that followed.
The wolves remained in their shifted forms, and I picked up my pack, turning to them. "I'm going to find Mike."
With that, I didn't wait for a response, setting off in the direction he had run.