Transformation applicants started coming in waves.

The second applicant arrived three days after Mara. A man this time; middle-aged, with calloused hands and a stoop from years of labour in the fields. His name was Henrik. His wife had been killed during Magnus’s invasion. His children had been taken by wolves who claimed them as servants. He had nothing left.

"I want the transformation," he said, standing in the same chamber where Seren had met Mara. "I want to be strong enough to find my children."

Seren explained the risks. The death rate. The partial transformations. The need for a bond with multiple powerful wolves, something he did not have and could not easily obtain.

Henrik listened. Then he stood.

"I don’t care about the risks. I don’t care about dying. I care about my children."

"I’m afraid, I cannot help you."

"Then I’ll find someone else."

He walked out.

The third applicant arrived the next day.

A young woman named Elara, barely eighteen, with bright eyes and trembling hands. She had been a servant in a noble’s house. The noble had tired of her and thrown her out. She had no family, no home, no future.

"I want to be a wolf," she said. "I want to be strong. I want to never be thrown away again."

Seren took her hands. "Elara. Look at me."

Elara looked.

"I was you. I was a servant. I was invisible." Seren’s voice was gentle. "But transformation is not the answer. It will not make you strong. It will not make you safe. It will most likely kill you."

"Then I’ll die trying."

"No." Seren squeezed her hands. "You’ll live. You’ll find another way. There are other paths to power. Other ways to be strong."

Elara’s eyes filled with tears. "Like what?"

"Like the school. Like the charter. Like the council seats; non-voting now, but they’ll change. Like learning to read. Like finding a trade. Like building a life that doesn’t depend on being a wolf."

"You’re asking me to be patient."

"I’m asking you to be alive."

Elara was silent for a long moment. Then she nodded. "I’ll think about it."

She left.

Seren watched her go and hoped she would not be back.

That night, Seren walked through the city.

She wore a plain cloak, hood up, no guards. Lysa walked beside her, also hooded. The streets were dark, but the taverns were bright.

In the common room of the Rusty Nail, they found Henrik. He was drinking alone, his face buried in his cup.

Seren sat across from him. "You’re still here."

Henrik looked up. His eyes were red. "I have nowhere else to go."

"I’ve been thinking about your children."

"They’re gone."

"They’re not gone. They’re somewhere. And if you die trying to transform, they’ll never see you again."

Henrik’s jaw tightened. "You don’t know that."

"I know that transformation kills. I know that the bond I have is unique. I know that you cannot replicate it." She leaned forward. "But I also know that there are other ways to find your children. Other ways to bring them home."

"How?"

"The crown has resources. Investigators. Wolves who track missing persons. Let me help you. Not with transformation, with *hope*."

Henrik stared at her. "Why would you help me?"

"Because I was powerless once. And someone gave me a chance." She extended her hand. "Let me give you one."

He looked at her hand. Then at her face.

He did not take it.

But he did not refuse either.

"I’ll think about it," he said.

The line grew longer.

Every day, more humans came to the palace. Some were desperate. Some were angry. Some were simply curious. All of them wanted the same thing: to become wolves.

Seren met with as many as she could. She explained the risks. She offered alternatives. She sent some to the school, some to the trade guilds, some to the new counselling centre that Marina had opened in the city.

But she could not help them transform. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

And she knew that some of them would try anyway.

Bryn brought her the numbers.

"Since the first applicant, forty-three humans have come to the palace requesting transformation. Twenty-seven have been turned away. Sixteen are still waiting."

"How many have tried unauthorized transformations?"

Bryn’s face was grim. "Three that we know of. All dead. One from a failed ritual. Two from so-called ’healers’ who promised results and delivered poison."

Seren closed her eyes. "We need to stop this."

"We can’t. The knowledge is out. The research is public. Desperate people will always find someone to exploit them."

"Then we need to find another way. A safer way. A way that doesn’t require the bond."

Bryn shook her head. "That’s years away. Decades, maybe. The research is incomplete."

"Then we complete it. Faster."

"With what resources? The institute is already stretched thin."

Seren opened her eyes. "Then we give them more resources. More scholars. More funding. Whatever it takes."

Aeron found her in the garden that night.

He sat beside her on the stone bench. The night jasmine was blooming. Somewhere in the palace, music was playing.

"I should never have become queen," Seren said. "I should have stayed invisible. Then no one would know transformation was possible. No one would be dying."

Aeron took her hand. "You can’t hide the truth. The research was there before you. The old healer’s notes. Bryn’s discoveries. Transformation was always possible. You just proved it."

"I proved that *I* could transform. Not them."

"And they’re dying because of it."

Seren leaned against him. "I don’t know how to save them."

"Then find a way. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. But someday." He kissed her hair. "That’s what queens do. They find ways."

Somewhere in the city, a young woman named Elara was learning and reading about transformation.

Somewhere else, Henrik was searching for his children.

And somewhere in the shadows, desperate humans were still seeking transformation—and finding only death.

Seren would stop them.

Or die trying.