Ember stepped forward with practiced grace. Her chin was high, her movements fluid as she climbed onto the stone. Aurora took her hand, the ceremonial blade catching the low light before it sliced a thin line across her palm. Ember did not flinch. Her blood dripped, dark and thick, onto the stone, which flared with silver light before dimming.
"Call to your wolf," Aurora said. "Do you require guidance?"
Ember shook her head, her expression focused. "I can handle it."
She squared her shoulders and closed her eyes. The change began with violent suddenness. Her spine arched toward the stars, and bones cracked with a sickening, wet sound. Ember gasped, her frame expanding as muscles tore and reformed beneath her skin. Pain twisted her pretty features into a mask of agony, her breath coming in harsh, desperate bursts.
"It is all right," Aurora said calmly. "It will hurt. Do not hold it in. Let it out."
Ember clenched her teeth, a low, guttural groan ripping from her chest. Around the circle, Dormants watched with wide, terrified eyes, some shrinking back as the reality of the transformation hit them.
"This is not the time to act brave, girl," Aurora whispered.
Ember finally broke. A scream tore from her throat, raw and piercing, vibrating through the clearing. Her body surged forward, dark fur erupting across her skin as she dropped to all fours. In her place stood a massive black wolf.
Gasps filled the space, followed by a roar of applause.
"Umbra," Aurora muttered. A nod of approval. "Congratulations."
The Zeta gave the instruction to shift back. Ember complied, left bare and exposed, exhaustion making her every movement heavy and sluggish. Pack members rushed forward, draping her in robes and offering praise, their smiles wide with the victory of a high-class wolf. Ember's eyes searched the crowd, landing on Axel. He stood beside his father, Alpha Vexton, whose lips tugged into a rare smile. Axel, however, remained blank, his posture straight and his face an unreadable mask.
Ember's triumphant smile faltered for a heartbeat before she was pulled away.
"Next," Aurora called. The silence returned instantly. "Ash Brooks."
Ash stepped forward, his arrogance radiating in waves. The blood spilled, the instructions were repeated, and the change tore through him with a fierce, jagged speed. Black fur burst across his skin as he dropped. Another Umbra stood proud upon the stone.
"Umbra," Aurora announced. "Congratulations."
The clearing exploded in a frenzy.
"The Moon Goddess has truly blessed the Beta's house!" someone shouted. "Two Umbras in one family!"
Alpha Vexton nudged the man standing at his left. "Gage, you lucky dog. You have bred a pair of monsters."
Gage, a broad man with silver-streaked blonde hair, let out a proud, beaming grin, his chest puffed out as he watched his son being swarmed by admirers. Ash shifted back, looking dazed but triumphant. Envious looks followed the Brooks twins as they were guided away.
Nevaeh's fists clenched tighter as she watched Ash's smug expression. People like them do not deserve such power, she thought. They will only use it to sharpen their cruelty.
The ceremony continued. An Earthen wolf emerged next, a sturdy brown beast. The pack cheered warmly, if not with the same fervor as for the Umbras. One by one, names were called. A sea of Earthens surfaced, but no more Umbras, making the clearing tense.
Then, a girl awakened as an Ashen wolf, her coat a pale cream. She sobbed the moment she turned human again, her family's whispered comforts doing nothing to mask their disappointment.
Nevaeh barely heard any of it. Her chest throbbed with a rhythmic, violent pulse. The stirring inside her had become a frantic thing, claws scraping against the inside of her ribs as if trying to carve its way out.
Then, the name she had been dreading—and longing for—rang out.
"Nevaeh Reed."
A chilling silence fell over the clearing, thick enough to stifle even the rustle of the surrounding trees. Every eye in the crowd turned toward her.
Nevaeh stepped forward. The sound of her own heartbeat roared in her ears like a landslide, a rhythmic thundering that drowned out the world. She climbed onto the ritual stone, the ancient marble feeling biting and cold beneath her feet even through the worn soles of her sneakers. Aurora took her hand with a firm, practiced grip and drew the ceremonial blade. Nevaeh winced as the steel bit into her flesh, watching as her blood spilled, thick and dark, to stain the silver-etched symbols.
"Do you require guidance?" Aurora asked. Her voice was steady, yet there was a flicker of something unreadable in her gray eyes.
Nevaeh shook her head, her jaw set so tight it ached. She took her stance, planting her feet on the bloodied stone. This is it, she told herself, the thought a frantic prayer. The moment she had been desperately waiting for.
She drew in a slow, steady breath and centered her weight. Then, the world exploded.
The pain was instant—white-hot, violent, and beyond any nightmare she had ever conjured. A raw, jagged scream tore from her throat as her bones began to reset. They snapped and shifted with the sound of splintering wood. But instead of the clean, decisive break the other Dormants experienced, Nevaeh's skeleton reset and shattered again in an endless, agonizing loop.
It felt as though invisible claws were shredding her from the inside out. Every nerve became a live wire, pulsing with a frequency that threatened to unmake her. Her vision flashed white as the agony consumed her. She clawed at her arms, fingers digging into her skin to hold herself together as she choked on the air.
Was it supposed to hurt like this?
The thought was instantly incinerated by another wave of torment. It was unbearable. Tears burned tracks down her cheeks as her body convulsed on the stone, her sneakers scuffing against the marble in a desperate, rhythmic friction.
Endure it. This is the price I have to pay to prove my worth.
She clung to that thought with a dying grip, her teeth grinding as another wet snap echoed through the silent clearing.
Aurora's expression tightened. The Zeta stepped closer, her posture losing its rigidity as concern clouded her severe features. The seconds stretched into minutes, agonizingly slow. Nevaeh did not turn. She only screamed louder, her body writhing in a cycle of agony that refused to resolve into the shape of a wolf.
The question hung in the air, visible on every judgmental face in the crowd. Is it supposed to take this long?