“The white wolf saved me?” My voice cracked as the words escaped. “You mean… from Cyprus?”
Even saying it aloud felt unreal, like trying to bend two impossibly different truths into one.
Unbelievable. I thought that wolf was wild and recognized no one, so how?
Dylan didn’t answer right away. I could see it in his face, the way his jaw tensed, how his gaze flicked to the cave wall like it held some kind of answer.
“Yes…” he said finally, but the word was heavy with doubt. “And I don’t know why.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, breathing in fragments.
“I don’t even remember shifting. All I recall is… being in the bunker and—”
He stopped. Froze. As if he is piecing all his memories back together.
His eyes widened, just slightly. Not in fear, something else.
“Wait,” he whispered.
