ena

er own. A sudden, blinding golden light flashed across my vision as the ancient White Wolf sl

nd sprinted down the sterile hospital corridors. I slammed my shoulder into the heav

stood suspiciously close to the medical machinery. The nutrie

dwritten note taped to the monitor read: "Called to East Wing. B

a metal cart with a clang as her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my goddess,

the clear tube and frantically jamming it back into the port. But a long

ther's pulse, and slowly shook hi

into long, deadly wolf claws as I lunged across the room, tackling El

ters!" I screamed, spitting in her face

xon cursed, grabbing a high-temperature sterilization wand from a nearby med

ed the burning metal directly into my

ning hair and roasting fle

eeling the flesh from my own bones, as I rolled off Elara. My unique scent of

ctively over Elara. "The machine failed! She was dying

tches, carrying her out and leaving me completel

e flat green line on the monitor. My mother was dead. My pup was dead. My bond was sev

en to the guards. By midnight, they dragged my bleeding body to the edge o

ned hunter's cabin, surviving on melted snow and the last vestiges of my strength. For three days and three nights, I waited, my grief a cold, heavy ston

snow, I reached into my torn pocket and pulled out a glowing blue gemstone: the "Tear of the M

d the neutral city limits, eventually descending into the hidden, underground E

city with wide, greedy eyes, immediately placing it o

my dirty, blood-stained clothes, their

g begging for a bone,"

light of the auction hall. A volatile mixture of disbelief and fu

. He had no idea that somewhere in this city, a King was alread