“Good. I’m here for reassurance whenever you need it.” Fairy winked. “Although eventually, it would probably be good if you could shift forms without me having to kiss you. Not that I don’t want to, but it might be difficult if, say, we were in the middle of a battle.”

“Are you two decent?” Liga called from nearby. The sky cleared back to its normal morning brightness.

“You didn’t give us enough time to be otherwise,” Daemon said.

Liga emerged from the woods. “My apologies, brother. But I need to return to Celestae soon, so I must teach you what I can quickly.”

Daemon bit his lip, but he crossed his arms over his chest and stood tall. “I’m ready.”

“Remember,” Liga said. “You are not merely a boy. You are a son of Vespre and grandson of Luna. You are the wolf of the stars and a master of gravity. Embrace who you truly are.”

Daemon closed his eyes for a moment and imagined himself as all those things.

Not just a boy.

Wolf of the stars.

Descended from gods.

Daemon’s skin buzzed, lightly at first, then strong enough that his skin vibrated. Heat prickled in his veins, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the tiny sparks bursting around him creating a faint blue aura.

“He’s doing it,” Fairy said, but her voice was almost lost in the noise of the electricity.

It felt different this time. In the past, he hadn’t noticed the subtle changes that happened before he turned into a wolf. Maybe he did now, though, because he was asking for the shift, coaxing the magic to transform him.

Daemon could tell when the shift really began to take hold, because the power of the sky filled his lungs, his heart, and his entire being to their limits. He was suddenly bigger than he’d ever been, not just physically but intangibly, too, as if his existence had expanded. Every sound was sharper, every color more saturated. He thought if he tried, he’d be able to see around to the other side of the world.

Liga’s clapping brought him back from his awe. “Well done, brother.”

Daemon looked at his thick blue fur, at his paws, at the tail behind him. He was solid, and yet he understood that this was what it meant to be a constellation—just not the way humans thought of it, not mere stars connected by empty space and drawn-in lines. Sparks danced around Daemon like stardust, and he could feel the pull of earth’s gravity at his mind, almost inviting him to play.

He started to reach for it.

The chestnut trees creaked, as if whimpering, and began to bow toward him.

“Halt!” Liga said.

Fairy was crouched on the ground, arms over her head to protect her from falling trees.