All eyes were on Luna.
Dozens of gazes, piercing and unrelenting, bore into her as though their sheer will alone could force her to shift.
The weight of expectation pressed heavy on her shoulders, and for the first time since stepping foot into this den, she felt something close to panic creeping up her spine.
And Luna was confused.
'They know I've never transformed, right?' Her eyes darted nervously from one face to the next—men in human form, some with barely restrained wolves clawing beneath their skin, watching her like she was about to either save them… or fail them.
Tyrnhael's voice cut through the heavy silence. "Come now. Don't be shy," he urged gently, a smile tugging at his lips. Encouraging, coaxing.
But Luna didn't move. She just stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes, her expression cracking into something small.
Vulnerable.
"H-How… do I transform?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling from her lips like a confession.
