RHYDAR
I can't breathe. It feels like my lungs are filled with broken glass. This isn't normal pain. It's the fallout from the f*****g experiments. I was only twelve years old when my father took me to the bastards that paraded themselves as the Werewolf Order. They tore me apart for seven years.
My father is a coward. When he learned of a prophecy that hinted that I would overshadow him, he sought to prevent it by ‘fixing’ me. What father does that to his own son? What father tells his son that he’s a symbol of destruction and must be fixed?
Thankfully I managed to escape three years ago, barely alive.
I bite down on a groan, my teeth clenched so hard I swear they'll shatter. Blaze, my wolf is losing control.
'They broke you,' he growls, pacing inside my mind. 'Let me out. I'll kill
