Chapter 36: The Call of the Ancients
Kael stood in the rain, his chest heaving. The rogue’s blood washed down his skin in diluted pink streams, pooling at his boots.
He turned to me. His amber eyes were still blown wide, the pupils slit like a predator's. The wolf was right at the surface, pacing, wanting to kill anything that wasn't me.
"Kael," I said softy.
He flinched. He looked at his hands, coated in gore. Then he looked at the c*****e around him—five dead wolves, torn apart with bare hands.
"I lost control," Kael rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "The wolfsbane... it strips the logic away. It leaves only the rage."
I walked out into the mud. I didn't care about the blood. I placed my hands on his wet, bare chest, right over his heart. It was hammering against his
