That night, Aira sat at the edge of her bed, her knees pulled to her chest. The moonlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting soft, silvery patterns across her bedroom floor. She had barely slept in days. Every time she closed her eyes, the same dream returned—dark trees, looming shadows, and the haunting echo of a wolf’s howl. It was always the same, vivid and terrifying. 
Aira brushed her hair behind her ear, trying to shake the memory. She couldn’t let herself think about it too much. Not tonight.
But the unease inside her was growing stronger. Something was changing—she could feel it. A dull ache throbbed in her chest, like an itch she couldn’t scratch, and her emotions had become harder to control lately. She had snapped at Mrs. Santi earlier that day for something as small as forgetting to buy her favorite snacks. And two days before that, she’d come dangerously close to punching a boy at school who had called her “weird.” 
Her fists clenched at the thought. She could still feel the heat in her blood, the way her nails had dug into her palms as if her body was rebelling against her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to run into the forest and disappear.
The sound of footsteps outside her door snapped her out of her thoughts. Aira quickly wiped her face, realizing her cheeks were wet. She hadn’t even noticed she was crying.
“Aira? Are you awake?” Raka’s familiar voice called from the other side of the door.
She hesitated for a moment before replying, “Yeah, I’m awake. What do you want?”
The door creaked open slightly, and Raka peeked in. His dark hair was messy, and his face looked tired, but there was something comforting about his presence. He stepped inside, holding a steaming mug of something in his hands.
“I thought you might need this,” he said casually, setting the mug down on her desk. “Chamomile tea. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
Aira blinked at him. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
Raka crossed his arms, leaning against the desk. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been off lately. Is it… something about Luna?” His tone softened at the mention of Luna’s name, but Aira could sense the underlying tension.
“It’s not about her,” Aira muttered, avoiding his gaze. “I just— I don’t know, okay? Everything feels… wrong.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice trembling. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Raka frowned, his brow furrowing. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re still you, Aira. Whatever’s going on, you’ll figure it out. You’ve got people who care about you, you know?”
Aira didn’t respond at first. She wanted to believe him, but deep down, she felt like something inside her was slipping away. She glanced at the mug of tea, the steam swirling in soft tendrils. “Thanks, Raka. You’re a good friend.”
Raka smiled faintly. “Anytime. Just… don’t keep everything bottled up, okay? You’ve got me, and Mrs. Santi, and even Fenrir, if you can stand his lectures.”
Aira let out a small laugh despite herself. “Yeah, Fenrir’s advice is… something else.”
As Raka left the room, closing the door gently behind him, Aira stared at the tea for a moment before picking up the mug. The warmth seeped into her hands, grounding her. For a brief second, she felt almost normal.
But that peace didn’t last. When Aira finally fell asleep later that night, the dream came back—sharper, darker, more vivid than ever.
She was running through the forest, her feet bare against the cold earth. The trees loomed around her, their branches twisting like claws. The sound of her breath echoed in her ears, ragged and uneven. She didn’t know what she was running from, but the fear in her chest was suffocating.
And then she heard it—a low, guttural growl. 
Aira froze, her heart pounding. She turned slowly, her eyes searching the darkness. That’s when she saw the wolf. Its glowing yellow eyes pierced through the shadows, locked onto her. Its massive body was tense, its fur bristling. 
Aira tried to scream, but no sound came out. The wolf lunged at her, its teeth bared, and—
She woke up with a gasp, her chest heaving. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, and her hands were trembling. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming or not. The room was too quiet, too still.
She stumbled out of bed, her breath uneven. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, and she froze. Her normally soft brown eyes were glowing faintly, a golden hue that wasn’t human. 
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The next few days were a blur. Aira tried to go about her daily routine, but everything felt off. The smallest things set her off—someone bumping into her in the hallway, a teacher scolding her for not paying attention, even Raka asking if she was okay for the hundredth time.
It all came to a head one evening when she was walking home alone. The streets were quiet, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows. A group of teenagers loitered near the corner, their laughter echoing in the air.
“Hey, isn’t that the weird girl?” one of them said, loud enough for Aira to hear.
She ignored them, quickening her pace. But they weren’t done.
“Oi, we’re talking to you!” another voice called out. “What’s with the creepy vibe? You think you’re too good to talk to us?”
Aira clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She tried to keep walking, but the heat in her chest was building, a fire she couldn’t contain.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” One of them grabbed her arm.
That was the last straw. Aira’s vision blurred, and the world tilted. All she could feel was the rage coursing through her veins, the primal need to protect herself.
When she came back to her senses, the teenagers were on the ground, groaning in pain. One of them had scratches on his face, deep and bleeding. Another was clutching his arm, which was bent at an unnatural angle. 
Aira looked down at her hands and saw the blood. Her heart dropped. “What… what have I done?”
She stumbled back, her breathing erratic. She didn’t wait for them to recover. She turned and ran, her legs carrying her as fast as they could. The forest wasn’t far, and she disappeared into the trees, the darkness swallowing her whole.
Aira didn’t stop running until she was deep in the forest, her lungs burning. She collapsed against a tree, her hands still trembling. The blood was still there, a stark reminder of what she had done.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m a monster.”
“No, you’re not.”
Aira’s head snapped up at the sound of the voice. Fenrir stood a few feet away, his expression calm but intense. He had a way of appearing out of nowhere, like he was always watching.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” Fenrir admitted, stepping closer. “I had a feeling this would happen.”
Aira glared at him, her anger flaring. “You knew this would happen, and you didn’t warn me? You just let me hurt people!”
Fenrir sighed, his gaze steady. “I didn’t let you do anything. This is your journey, Aira. You have to learn to control it.”
“I don’t want this!” Aira shouted, her voice echoing through the trees. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”
Fenrir crouched down in front of her, his voice soft but firm. “Whether you want it or not, it’s a part of you. You can’t run from it.”
Aira shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know how to control it. I’m scared.”
Fenrir placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip steady. “You’re stronger than you think. But you have to face it. Running won’t help.”
Aira looked at him, her vision blurry with tears. “And what if I can’t? What if I hurt someone again?”
Fenrir’s expression darkened slightly. “Then you’ll have to make a choice. But for now, you need to focus on controlling it. You’re not alone in this, Aira.”
She wanted to believe him, but the fear in her heart was overwhelming. She didn’t know who she was anymore, and the thought of losing herself completely terrified her.
As they walked back toward the edge of the forest, Aira felt a strange sensation, like someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing. The trees were still, the night silent.
But deep down, she knew. The figure from the other night—the one standing at the edge of the woods—was still out there. Watching. Waiting.
And this time, Aira wasn’t sure she’d be ready.