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6_ The full moon

The anticipation was unbearable. It had been days—days of pacing inside Dylan’s apartment, glancing out the windows at the sky, waiting for the full moon. Each passing night felt heavier, filled with an energy I couldn’t quite explain, but I knew the moon was calling to me. Dylan, cautious and overprotective, insisted I stay indoors. He kept saying I could become “unpredictable,” and that I might do something drastic. I could sense his fear and uncertainty growing as the full moon drew nearer. But tonight, I was finally ready. I needed to reconnect with my wolf, to feel her again after so long. I could feel her whimpering inside, desperate for release.

As the evening fell, Dylan nervously suggested we head back to the woods. His hands were fidgeting as he grabbed his keys and coat. “Let’s go before the moon reaches its apex,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I followed him, my heart racing, but not from nerves. It was excitement. The wild within me was bubbling, waiting. I had no idea what to expect once we reached the forest. I didn’t even know if it would work. I had been stuck in this human body for what felt like an eternity, but deep down, I knew tonight would be different.

When we arrived, the woods were quiet, almost too quiet. The air was thick with tension, and the moon was slowly rising higher, casting an eerie silver glow through the canopy. Dylan glanced at me with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what we were doing. “This is crazy,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe I’m doing this with you.”

I offered him a reassuring smile, though I wasn’t sure if I was reassuring myself, too. “It’ll be fine,” I said softly, though my mind was racing with a million thoughts. We ventured deeper into the forest until we found a clearing, a place we had been to before. There was a large tree stump at the centre, and we sat down to wait.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and Dylan began asking me questions—anything to pass the time, to distract himself from the inevitable. But I could tell he was nervous. His voice was shaky, his hands trembling slightly as he spoke. I could smell the sweat building up, the adrenaline starting to pulse through him.

Finally, the moon reached its apex. The light shone down brightly on the clearing, bathing us in its glow. My wolf stirred, eager, restless. I stood up, heart pounding in anticipation. This was it. I could feel the wildness inside me, clawing at the edges of my skin, ready to break free.

But nothing happened.

I frowned, confusion settling in. I glanced at Dylan, who was watching me expectantly. “Do you feel anything?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“No,” I muttered, frustrated. “Nothing.”

Panic started to rise within me. Why wasn’t it working? The moon was right there, full and powerful. My wolf should be free by now. I paced in circles, growing more agitated with every second. “Tell me more about the full moon legend,” I demanded, needing something, anything to help me figure this out.

Dylan pulled out his phone and started reading. “It says here that the shifting process involves, uh, bones breaking and reshaping,” he read aloud, swallowing hard. “It can be… violent. Dangerous.”

I could hear the fear in his voice, the way it trembled as he spoke. I stopped pacing and turned to him, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. “I would never hurt you, Dylan,” I said firmly, locking eyes with him.

He nodded, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes. The minutes dragged on, and still nothing happened. I was growing more desperate, and more anxious. Why couldn’t I shift?

Dylan stood up suddenly and walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down,” he urged, his voice steady but soft. “Just breathe. Relax. Imagine yourself shifting.”

I closed my eyes and did as he said, taking slow, deep breaths. I focused on the image of my wolf, on her paws, her fur, her strength. I could almost feel her beneath the surface, waiting to break free.

And then, it happened.

A sharp crack echoed through my body as my bones began to shift, snapping and reshaping themselves. But to my surprise, it didn’t hurt. The sensation was more like a stretch like something I had been holding back was finally being released. In one swift moment, I was no longer standing on two legs—I was on all fours, fur bristling in the moonlight.

I looked down at my paws—large, powerful—and let out a breathless whine of joy. My wolf was free. I twirled around, howling up at the moon, filled with a sense of euphoria I hadn’t felt in so long.

But then, something caught my eye. My fur—it was white.

Confusion washed over me. I had been a brown wolf all my life, not white. What did this mean? Was something wrong with me? I tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the thrill of being in my wolf form again. I could think about the strange colour later. For now, I wanted to enjoy the feeling.

I turned to Dylan, who was standing frozen a few feet away, his eyes wide with shock. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, stumbling backwards. “You’re—you're a wolf.”

He was in disbelief, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process what he was seeing. I watched him, tilting my head curiously, but I didn’t move closer. His heart was racing—I could hear it—and I didn’t want to scare him. So instead, I sat down and wagged my tail, hoping it would make me seem less intimidating.

It worked. Dylan took a hesitant step forward, then another. Slowly, he crouched down beside me and reached out to touch my fur. His hand was trembling as it rested on my back, but he didn’t pull away. I let out a soft purr, leaning into his touch. It felt so good to be close to him, to feel his warmth against my fur.

After a few moments of petting, he pulled back and stood up, giving me a small smile. “Go on,” he said. “Run around, have fun. I’ll wait for you here.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I shot off into the woods, the wind rushing through my fur as I sprinted between the trees. Every part of me felt alive, every sense heightened. The earth beneath my paws, the sounds of the forest, the scent of the night—it was all so vivid, so real. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this until now.

Running as a wolf was pure freedom. I darted between trees, leaping over fallen logs, feeling the power in my legs, and the strength in my muscles. The forest was mine again, and I revelled in it. The joy, the sheer exhilaration of it all—it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

After a while, I returned to the clearing, panting but satisfied. Dylan was still there, just as he promised, waiting for me. I shifted back into my human form, and as soon as I did, I noticed the look on his face—his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed. It wasn’t until I looked down that I realized I was naked.

I was still getting used to the rules of being human, so I was unfazed by how I was, but Dylan turned away quickly, and he fumbled for the spare shirt he had brought. Without looking, he handed it to me. “Here,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

I slipped the shirt on quickly, tugging it down as far as it would go. “Okay,” I said softly, “I’m done.”

Dylan turned back around, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged again, like it had before. Then, unable to contain my excitement any longer, I grinned. “I’m a wolf again,” I said, my voice bubbling with happiness.

Dylan smiled back at me, though it was more subdued than my own. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. “Katrina… your hair.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

He reached up and gently pulled a strand of my hair forward, showing it to me. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the colour. A streak of white. Just like my fur.

I stared at the strand in disbelief, a strange, uneasy feeling settling in my chest. Something had changed. Something was different.

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