(Damien POV)
Dawn came cold and pale over the frozen ridge.
I woke without resistance—no gasping, no clawing back to myself, no frantic search for the pieces of who I used to be. The body simply opened its eyes. My eyes. Horns sat heavy on my skull—curved, ridged, no longer an intrusion but a fact. Claws flexed—longer now, blacker, retracting and extending with the same ease as breathing. Shadows pooled around me like spilled ink, rising to curl at my ankles when I shifted my weight, obedient, waiting.
