Chapter 4 — Primal Instincts

Meredith

Cold. Sharp. Alive. These were the first sensations that clawed into Meredith’s awareness as she awoke, her senses sharper than she could ever remember, yet her mind blank and splintered. A heavy mist clung to the craggy slopes of the Mistclaw Highlands, its damp tendrils beading on her silver-gray fur. The ground beneath her paws was soft with moss and mud, her claws digging into the earth as if anchoring her to this fragile tether of existence. The faint thrum of energy coursed through her, subtle but insistent, as though something ancient stirred beneath her skin. The Stone of Lycans’ presence pulsed faintly inside her, an unspoken force guiding her instincts.