Most of the shops are boarded up and lack any real indication of what they are. I suppose it makes sense, being that almost everything here is illegal.
I slow, lean against a stall piling broken wares, trying to compose a solid plan. The longer I’m away from he,r the more there is for things to go t**s up.
My wolf and Lycan howl simultaneously, the echoes of their voice becoming one disembodied sound.
I wonder how much longer it will take for them to merge.
I picture the savage dominance I wielded as a young juvenile, before I learned control. Faster, stronger, more aggressive than my peers—I needed to suppress all that raw power to survive.
Now, I’m evolving. Neither wolf nor Lycan, but the best and worst of both. Something between.
What would that mean for me? For my pack? For my
