Aurelia rose through Serena's body like a tide, taking control with calm, instinctive finality.
Earlier, when she had surfaced, Serena was present and aware. But this time, Serena was gone because Serena was at her limit. The lights were off but nobody was home.
Her human had poured herself dry and collapsed, and the wolf had caught the keys before they hit the floor.
Aurelia didn't panic or spiral. She didn't flip through the mental encyclopedia of mage briefings and poison classifications her human had memorized like a goddamn honors student preparing for a final she was never going to take.
Wolves run on instinct, and instinct didn't need a bibliography or a second opinion.
The majority of her instincts had been burned out by silver, but not this one. She knew what to do because she was a white wolf.
