Morning came, but the tension from the night did not leave with it.
The pack grounds were quieter than usual, not peaceful, just careful. Wolves moved around Isla without getting too close, their conversations low, their eyes lingering longer than they should before shifting away. No one challenged her, but no one treated her the same either.
Isla noticed everything. The way they stepped aside before she reached them. The way their bodies tensed when her gaze passed over them. The way even their scents carried unease now, sharp and restless.
She stood at the edge of the training grounds, arms folded, watching.
"You are making them nervous."
Dorian's voice came from behind her. She did not turn immediately, but she felt him before he spoke. The bond between them was quieter this morning, not gone, just subdued, like it was waiting.
"They were already nervous," she replied.
He stepped up beside her, his movements slower than usual but more controlled than the night before. The strain was still there, buried under effort. She could feel it in the way his heartbeat refused to fully settle.
"They do not know what you are yet," he said.
Isla finally glanced at him. "Neither do I."
That shut him up for a second.
Before he could respond, one of the minor Kyote wolves approached them, cautious but determined. It was the same young wolf from the night before. His shoulders were tight, but he held his ground.
"The elders want you to train," he said, looking mostly at Isla.
She raised a brow slightly. "Train what?"
"Control," he answered. "Your… abilities."
Dorian exhaled quietly. "That is a polite way to say they are worried you might lose it again."
The wolf did not deny it.
Isla let her arms drop to her sides. The energy inside her had not fully faded since the night before. It sat under her skin, quieter now but still present, like heat waiting to rise.
"Fine," she said. "Show me."
The training ground was already prepared. A few wolves stood at a distance, watching but not stepping forward. None of them volunteered to be first.
That told her everything.
Marcel was there too, leaning against a tree at the far edge, arms crossed, looking like he had been there long before any of them arrived. His gaze met hers briefly, then shifted away, but not before she caught the flicker of something unreadable in it. She had no idea if it was Interest, curiosity or something deeper.
Isla stepped into the center of the clearing and rolled her shoulders once. "What do you want me to do?"
The young wolf hesitated, then said, "Shift. But slowly."
She almost laughed.
"Nothing about this has been slow."
Still, she closed her eyes for a second and focused. The memory of the last transformation was still fresh, sharp and burning. This time, she reached for it instead of letting it take her.
The energy responded instantly. Her breath tightened as it rose through her chest, spreading through her limbs, pressing outward. Her fingers curled slightly as her nails lengthened, not fully claws, but not human either.
A murmur moved through the watching wolves.
Isla opened her eyes. They were not fully white this time, but the glow was there, faint and steady.
"That is control," she said quietly.
"Not enough," Marcel's voice cut in.
She turned her head toward him, irritation flickering. "Then explain."
He pushed off the tree and walked closer, stopping just outside her reach. "Control is not holding it back. It is using it without letting it use you."
She held his gaze. "That sounds like the same thing."
"It is not." He replied.
The difference sat between them, unspoken but clear.
Dorian stepped forward then, his voice firmer. "Try again. But this time, push it further."
Isla looked at him for a second. There was something in his expression she had not seen clearly before. Not just caution. Rather it was frustration with himself, with her and with the bond.
She nodded once. "Fine." She said under her voice.
She let the energy rise again, stronger this time. It came faster now, responding to her without hesitation. Her muscles tightened as the shift began, her body adjusting in stages instead of snapping all at once.
Her claws extended fully this time, digging into the ground as her posture lowered slightly. Her senses sharpened, the world around her stretching into clearer detail. She could hear the wolves behind her, every breath, every small movement.
Then it pushed further. Her vision flickered. A sudden rush of scent hit her, overwhelming, too much all at once. She caught herself before it took over completely, her breath coming sharper as she forced it back.
"Enough," Dorian said quickly.
But Isla did not stop.
Not yet. She pushed a little more. The bond reacted. Hard.
Her chest tightened as a pulse shot through her, dragging Dorian into it. He staggered slightly, his hand going to his side as the connection flared between them.
"Isla, stop."
She froze.
The energy held for a second, then slowly receded, her claws retracting as her breathing steadied.
Dorian straightened, but the strain was clear now. He looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You felt that," she said.
"Yes." He responded.
"And you could not stop it." She asked.
His jaw tightened. "No."
The truth sat between them, heavier than anything else in the clearing.
Marcel stepped closer again, his voice quieter this time. "That is the problem."
Isla looked at him. "Say it clearly."
"You are not just changing yourself," he said. "You are pulling him with you."
Dorian let out a short breath, almost bitter. "That is obvious."
"Not just him," Marcel added.
That made Isla pause. "What do you mean?" She curiously asked.
He held her gaze. "Last night was not just between you and him. I felt it too."
Silence followed.
Dorian turned sharply. "You are not part of this bond."
Marcel's expression did not shift. "And yet I felt it."
The air tightened.
Isla's chest pulsed again, softer this time, but enough to make her notice. She focused on it, on the threads that stretched from her outward.
One to Dorian. That was clear. Strong. Constant. But there was something else.It was faint, distant, not fully formed, but there.
Her breath slowed. "You are right," she said quietly.
Dorian looked at her. "What?"
She lifted her gaze toward the trees, her senses stretching outward. That faint thread pulsed again, just once, like something answering her awareness.
"There is another one."
The words landed hard. Before anyone could respond, a sound cut through the air.
A howl. Distant, but sharp enough to slice through the morning. Every wolf in the clearing went still.
Isla's head snapped toward the sound, her body reacting instantly. The bond in her chest flared violently, stronger than anything she had felt since the night before.
Dorian doubled slightly, grabbing his side as the surge hit him.
"That is not just a howl," he said through clenched teeth.
"No," Isla replied, her voice tightening as the pull dragged at her again.
It was not random. It was calling. And this time, she knew without doubt it was meant for her.
The faint thread in her chest tightened. Alive. Waiting.
Marcel's gaze sharpened, his body already shifting slightly, ready.
"You just got noticed," he said.
Isla did not look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the direction of the sound, her pulse syncing with something far beyond the pack.
"Then it should have stayed hidden," she said.
But even as she spoke, her body leaned forward slightly, already responding to the pull. Because whatever was out there was not running.
It was coming closer and this time, she knew she would not be able to ignore it.