The van explodes outward in twisted metal and glass.
I burst through the wreckage in full wolf form, a roar tearing from my throat that shakes the trees around us. The Fenrir variant burns in my blood, trying to tear wolf and man apart inside me. My black fur ripples unnaturally. Silver-gray patches spread across my flanks, each one sending fresh waves of agony through every nerve.
But I don’t stop.
Sienna.
Her fear and fury hit through our bond. I can feel her watching—Elias is making her see this.
Two infected rogue wolves — their eyes wild and foaming, bodies half-shifted in grotesque spasms — lunge at me from the roadside. The variant has already claimed them. They move like monsters, no longer wolves, just broken and rabid.
I meet the first one mid-air. My jaws close around his
