ra

of the Black Forest. I was a Rogue now, a wolf without a pack, cast out and left to die. The severed bond h

rowl echoed from

re feral Rogues, their minds lost to the wild, killing for sport. Th

ing cramp ripped

transformation had been delayed by years of malnutrition and the constant, low-grade silver poisoning that came from scrubbing the pack's candelabras

anchor their soul, to ease the agony of the chan

ound a series of sickening cracks and pops. I screamed,

gues l

ough my arms and leg

ie here, in the

verhead were rent asunder. The full moon, stark and whit

nd dormant stirred in my blood. The fever's heat did not break;

on. Fur erupted from my skin, but it was not

ure, lumin

iven flesh, the last of a bloodline said to c

form of a massive dire wolf tha

med to shake the very roo

ee Rogu

ancient power, forced them to their bellies, wher

ever fully heal. But it no longer defined me. The Omega who had scrubbed silver until her knuckles bled was dead, torn apart by feral claws in the mud of the Black Forest. What rose from her broken body was