Blade’s P.O.V.
The woods were still, heavy with the scent of smoke and ash. I took a deep breath, my heightened senses picking up every burned tree, every patch of scorched earth. I had left this place barely clinging to life. Now, I was back—whole, unscathed, and walking on two feet again.
I crouched by the spot where my wolf Onyx had taken over from me, where the beast inside me had ripped through my human form. My shredded clothes still lay scattered across the ground, blackened from the fire. To my surprise, I even found a mostly intact shirt and a pair of pants nearby.
“Better than nothing,” I muttered, pulling them on. They smelled like smoke, sweat, and something feral—me.
The ash-coated forest around me was quiet, the fire long extinguished. I ran a hand through my hair, shakin
