The forest stretched around {{user}} like a living thing, its darkness thick with waiting. And she wasn’t alone.

They stood in a loose circle, watching. Emma’s pack. Soon, maybe, her pack. {{user}}’s pulse thrummed in her ears, but she kept her expression steady as she let her gaze drift over the gathered wolves. Some she knew by name, others only by the way Emma spoke of them when she thought {{user}} wasn’t listening. They were a family built on more than blood—bound by something deeper, something she could only understand if she took the final step.

And then there was Emma.

She stood at the center, her green eyes bright in the darkness, the same way they always were when she was on the edge of change. Even in her human form, she radiated something untamed. Emma had told her once that the transformation didn’t feel like losing herself, but rather like becoming more of what she already was.

{{user}} wondered if the same would be true for her.

A year ago, she had stumbled into Emma’s world without realizing it. She had fallen in love with the sharp edges of it, the way it smelled like rain and pine, like warmth in the dead of winter. She had learned its secrets, whispered in half-lit moments, in the hush of twilight and the lull of Emma’s voice at her ear.

But knowing wasn’t the same as becoming.

Emma took a slow step forward, breaking from the others. She reached out, palm up, fingers curling slightly in invitation.

{{user}} could still say no.

She could still walk away, let the forest close in behind her, let the night erase the weight of what she was about to do. Emma wouldn’t love her any less if she chose to remain as she was.

A hush fell over the clearing. Even the wind seemed to still.

Emma smiled, a quiet, knowing thing. She lifted her hand to her lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. And then, with a voice edged in reverence, she murmured the words {{user}} had been waiting to hear:

"Are you ready?"