“was a sense of solidarity. Not possessiveness, but…protectiveness. Like, even if a terrible fate befell him behind the Wall and her soul and physical body remained intact due to their rebellion, she’d still want to tear apart the world in retribution. She didn’t feel lust. She felt a duty. Like she was meant to do right by him in all senses. She wondered if he felt the same. The sound of clanging metal took Isla out of her contemplations. She followed the noise, turning to find everyone had shifted, except for one. The trainee from Tethys that she’d been talking to at the feast hadn’t changed. Under the silks that he’d stripped, he’d worn battle leathers. A warrior brought him a helmet and a sword, and Isla realized to her horror that the man was unable to shift, or at least, unable to complete one. He was one of the few who attempted to go into the Wilds without a wolf. Most of them never made it out. A loud howl rung in the air, bellowed from the maw of the Imperial Alpha, who along with Isla’s father, had shifted. The Imperial Beta followed it with his own”
―
Melissa Kieran,
A Warrior's Fate
