LAYLA
A wolfless werewolf.
Sometimes, the weight of that realization hit me out of nowhere, like a cold gust of wind cutting through a warm afternoon. It wasn't just a label—it was a truth I carried, one that had shaped so much of who I was. Back in Sy, I was at the very least a Half-shifter. But somehow, here… where I was less than that... I felt happier.
The thought made me chuckle softly as I wove the stems of wildflowers together, their vibrant petals brushing against my fingers. I sat cross-legged in the soft grass, the sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees above me. It felt almost surreal, this moment of peace. My hands moved instinctively, crafting a crown of daisies and lavender blooms.
As I bent down to pick another flower, something made me pause. That sense of being watched crawled up my spine, sending a shiver through me. Slowly, I turned—and there he was.
His Majesty.
