The sun was barely up when I reached the shelter again, breath ragged, ribs aching, blood crusting at my collarbone. Every step felt like penance, like something ancient in me cracking open and demanding to be reckoned with.

But I was whole. I was here.

And my wolf was with me.

Really with me.

“Finally!” a voice squeaked inside my skull, full of indignation and giddy relief. “Took you long enough! I thought I was gonna be stuck in the dark forever.”

I blinked, mid-step.

“Nyx?” I whispered.

“Well, duh. Who else do you know who lives in your head and has better instincts than you?”

Her voice was light and rapid, like wind chimes in a storm—cheerful, but jittery. Like she’d had too much sugar and nowhere to put the energy.

“Also, ow,” she added with a pout. “Your ribs hurt. Stop moving so much.”

I laughed. It came out more like a wheeze. “You’re a bit late to the party, you know.”

“I would’ve come sooner but someone decided to shut me out. You got all human and sad and ugh.” She made a gagging sound. “I hate it when you go full ‘woe is me.’ It's boring. We’re werewolves. We do revenge. Not tears.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” I muttered.

“Yeah, yeah. Trauma. Heartbreak. Abandonment. Boo hoo. But you know what really ticks me off?” Her voice sharpened, still bubbly but now like pop rocks on a sore tongue. “You let Kade walk away. You didn’t even scratch him! Not one bite!”

My heart stuttered. “Nyx…”

“Don’t ‘Nyx’ me! He rejected us. He threw us out like we were garbage and you just—just—sat there! Like a sad wet puppy!”

I flinched.

Nyx huffed.

“You hunted down a gang of drug-peddling creeps for hurting Mira—which, fair, I’m proud of you, you were all claws and murder—but the guy who broke your soul? Nada. Zip. Zilch.”

“I was broken.”

“So? We heal. That’s what we do. We get up, we snarl, we bite back.” Her tone softened. “You’re stronger than him, Rhea. Always were. He didn’t break you. He just gave you an excuse to find out what you really are.”

I stopped walking, standing in the middle of the sidewalk while the city slowly woke around me.

“What am I?”

Nyx purred.

“You’re mine. And I’m yours. And together?” Her giggle was almost feral. “We’re a nightmare.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crept across my lips. It felt wrong, too soon, too raw—but it was real.

“Fine,” I said. “Then we’ll start with surviving. Then we’ll see what kind of nightmares we want to be.”

“Ooh, I like that plan. But can we get pancakes first? I’m starving. And Mira likes pancakes.”

I shook my head, chuckling through the pain.

“Pancakes it is.”

I stepped back into the shelter.

Whole.

Not healed.

But burning with the promise of what came next.