Nathaniel
Everyone bows their heads before me as I storm down the corridor.
“Your Majesty,”
they mutter not looking at me.
Your Majesty. The phrase rings in my ears all the time. I hear it even if I close my eyes.
I walk ahead without seeing anything. Whoever comes in my way steps back and clears the path.
My fangs are showing and it's a clear sign that whoever crosses me will be punished. My wolf is clawing its way out, digging its nails inside me. It’s like he is ripping my flesh from the inside.
“Kill whoever did it. Kill them and feed on their blood.”
My wolf is ferocious. Frantic. I clench my teeth and pierce my lip, blood trickling down my chin and I wipe it, absently.
“This is a trap,” I keep repeating to myself. There is still some small, sensible part left inside me
