Avery’s POV
The minute the silver arrowhead pulled from the wolf’s flesh in the careful grip of my pliers, Gideon shifted. Fur and bone wavered in the nauseating, disconcerting fisheye lens of transformation, and then Gideon was crouched on the forest floor beside me.
“Avery.” He said.
He might have been greeting me as we passed in the street. His tone was deceptively calm.
Then I saw the way his eyes were flashing. The wolf gold was still in them. His wolf was feeding him strength for healing.
Silver was a powerful toxin for werewolves. It interrupted natural processes and inhibited healing. Even worse, in great enough quantities it could cut a human off from their magical side entirely, or sever the wolf from their soul.
It was a cruel weapon, and a potent one for rogues to be
