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I sat up in my bed, panting and sweating like crazy. I put a hand to my forehead, wiped away some sweat, and rubbed the skin there. Skin, not fur. My hands shook as I examined them to make sure that they were hands and not claws. My stomach churned. Just now, I had murdered and eaten a young woman. Of course, I had been experiencing everything through someone else’s eyes, but I had still felt everything. I had felt myself transforming into a wolf, and I had tasted the first bite. And, even more than that, I had felt all the turbulent, violent feelings that Saul had experienced in his early days as a werewolf. I now knew what it was like to have an urge for violence that was so strong it was impossible to resist.
I felt sick to my stomach. The memory of it alone made my skin crawl and
