Karen’s POV
Days blurred together in the rogues’ den. Every sunrise and sunset felt the same dark, suffocating, hopeless.
If I wasn’t mistaken, I might have stayed here for five days or more.
They gave me wolfsbane every single day sometimes through a syringe, sometimes hidden in the food they shoved at me. Each swallow burned, each dose gnawed at my strength, and with every passing hour, I could feel my wolf slipping further away. Her voice grew faint, her energy dimming, until I feared one day I’d call for her and she wouldn’t answer at all.
But if I was dying, then I refused to die quietly.
The rogues thought they were clever, leaving behind their empty syringe after one of the injections, mocking me with it as they laughed. But to me, it was something else a chance.
The next morn
