"I hate this time of the month," the wolf muttered in their shared mind, its voice a low, gravelly growl that rippled with restrained power.
"Same here," Orion replied, his consciousness drifting in the dim edges of the beast's awareness. Exhaustion tugged at him, but he remained tethered — barely.
Inside the cave, chains groaned against the tension of shifting muscle. The once smooth, hollow space that Orion had found himself in, months ago was now scarred and seasoned by claw marks along the stone, tufts of fur in the corners, and deep grooves worn into the floor from too many restless nights. Moonlight filtered through a jagged opening near the roof, painting pale silver patterns across the ground, making the dust swirl in quiet patterns.
