Chapter 16 Chapter 16: Cold Snap

Chapter 16 Chapter 16: Cold Snap

The first snow started sometime after midnight. I woke to the soft hush of it—flakes tapping the window like hesitant fingers. No wind. No sound except the quiet piling up outside. I lay still for a long minute, listening to the world go muffled. It felt like the campus had finally decided to hold its breath. I slipped out of bed before Lyra stirred.
Pulled on an extra layer, hoodie over hoodie, gloves with the fingertips cut out so I could still feel things.

The dorm hallway was empty, lights dimmed to that sickly yellow they used at night. I pushed through the side door and stepped into white. Snow crunched under my sneakers—fresh, untouched. The quad looked smaller somehow, edges softened. Path lights glowed orange through the falling flakes. I walked slowly. No destination. Just moving. The cold sharpened everything. Scents came cleaner: pine sap from the evergreens lining the walk, wet stone under the snow, the faint metallic bite of ozone that always came before more flakes. Sounds too—my own footsteps crisp, distant car on the access road, the low creak of branches settling under weight.
I could hear individual flakes landing if I stood still long enough. I tilted my head back. Snow caught in my lashes melted fast. For the first time since the ritual, the wolf inside me didn’t feel like an intruder. It felt like… part of the quiet. I walked until my fingers went numb inside the gloves.

Ended up at the edge of the forest trail we used for conditioning. No one else is out this early. Just me and the snow and the trees standing like silent guards. I closed my eyes. Breathed deep. The cold burned going in, burned coming out. Good burn. The physiology lab was first period. The room smelled like antiseptic and chalk and the lingering ghost of whatever chemical they used to clean the specimen trays. Professor Langford had set up stations along the benches—small glass vials with cotton balls soaked in different scents.

Blindfolds again. Paired work. Identify and describe emotional associations. I ended up next to a quiet sophomore named Elias. He smelled faintly of cedar and motor oil. Not unpleasant. Just… neutral. We took turns. I went first. Blindfold on. Elias handed me the first vial. I inhaled. Pine. Smoke. Wolf. My heart slammed once—hard—against my ribs. I froze. The scent wasn’t from the vial. It was already in the room. Behind me. Near the observation window.Kieran.I ripped the blindfold off too fast. Turned. He stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed, black jacket dusted with melting snow. Watching. Our eyes locked.

The TA—some grad student with a clipboard—cleared her throat. “Winters? Your association?”I swallowed. Forced words out. “Forest. Night. Safety.”She nodded. Wrote it down. Didn’t notice my hands shaking. Elias went next. I barely heard him. When the bell rang, I packed slowly. Kieran was gone by the time I looked again. But the scent lingered. Lunch was louder than usual. The group had claimed the corner table again. Rowan was telling a story about his little cousin shifting for the first time—turned into a wolf pup in the middle of a family barbecue and stole an entire rack of ribs before anyone could catch him. Ivy laughed so hard she snorted. Dex rolled his eyes but grinned. Even Lyra smiled—small, but real. I listened. Ate mechanically. Felt the normalcy of it like a borrowed coat. Warm. But not mine.

Rowan leaned over halfway through. “Festival bonfire tomorrow night. You coming? Group thing. No pressure.”I pushed a fry around my plate. “Maybe.”He nodded. Didn’t push. “Cool. If you do, save me a dance. Strictly friendly. Scout’s honor.”I almost smiled. “You were never a scout.”“Details.”After lunch, I slipped away alone. Headed for the woods behind the old maintenance shed.

The snow was deeper here—ankle-high, untouched except for animal tracks. Deer, maybe. Rabbit. Something bigger that made me pause. I found a clearing ringed by pines. No footprints. No scent trails. Just white and green and quiet. I sat on a fallen log. Closed my eyes.Focused.
The shift started slowly this time. Pressure behind my ears first—like someone pressing thumbs into the base of my skull. Then the stretch—cartilage lengthening, skin prickling as fine fur tried to push through. Canines ached as they dropped lower.
Not a full muzzle. Not yet. Just enough to feel the points against my lower lip. Pain flared bright. White-hot. I held it. Breathed through it. When I opened my eyes, the world looked sharper. Colors brighter. Snow is almost glowing. I could hear the heartbeat of a mouse under the log ten feet away—fast, terrified. I held the partial shift for thirty seconds. Forty. Fifty. Then let go. The recoil hurt worse—bones snapping back, skin smoothing, ears folding flat again. I gasped. Bent forward. Hands braced on knees. But I hadn’t screamed. Small victory.

The evening library shift was quiet. Snow kept most students inside. I shelved slowly, letting the rhythm settle me. Found myself in the mythology section again. Pulled Bonds of the Blood from the cart where I’d left it yesterday.Opened a new chapter. Eclipse alignment amplifies lunar influence. Bonds—true or forced—reach peak potency during totality. Historical records indicate several packs used blood-moon eclipses for final culling rituals, ensuring only the strongest alignments survived. My stomach turned. Final Trial.
Blood moon. I closed the book. Tucked it back on the shelf. Didn’t check it out. Back in the dorm, Lyra was asleep already—curled tight, lamp off. I moved quietly. Changed into sleep clothes. Sat on my bed in the dark. Midnight came. I cracked the window again. Cold air rushed in—sharp, clean. Snow still falling, softer now. Another white flower waited on the windowsill. Fresh. Petals barely open.Beside it—a tiny folded note. I picked it up with shaking fingers.Unfolded.Three days until prep intensifies.
Breathe, little wolf.
I’m watching.
– K 
His notes always said he was watching.  
But the rabbits kept coming—the blood smears. The notes are inside locked drawers.  
Either he was letting them through on purpose…  
Or someone was slipping past even the dean’s perfect enforcer.
“I should have asked him about the rabbits weeks ago. But every time I get close enough to speak, he looks at me like I’m already his—and I’m terrified he’s right.”

I stared at the handwriting. Neat. Controlled. Like everything else about him. My thumb brushed the ink. I should have been angry. Should have crumpled it. Instead, I folded it smaller. Slipped it under my pillow next to the first one. Clutched both. Heart pounding—equal parts comfort and fear. I looked out the window. Snow is falling steadily. No ghost wolf tonight. Just white and dark, and the faint glow of path lights. I closed the window. Locked it. Lay down. The note crinkled under my head. I didn’t sleep. But for the first time in days, the dark didn’t feel quite so empty.