Azura's POV
The ceiling was not familiar, that was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes. Wrong shape. Wrong color. Wrong everything. I lay completely still and stared up at it and waited for my brain to catch up with the rest of me.
The last thing I remembered was Torin's back. The warmth of the fur under my hands and the rhythm of his movement through the dark and the trees blurring past on both sides. I must have fallen asleep somewhere between the pack house and wherever this was, because there was a significant gap between that memory and this ceiling, and I had no idea what was in it.
I sat up slowly.
