I sat in silence in the pack library. The heavy scent of ancient parchment mixed with faint coppery traces of old blood, and the cold stone walls seemed to absorb the flickering candlelight, casting long shadows. What my werewolf lieutenant told me made me both frightened and annoyed. Silently fuming, I scoured the pages of the old books. There had to be something that described what my lieutenant saw while saving Raelynn—the only fragile human among us, her pale skin contrasting starkly with the werewolf darkness that surrounded her. He told me that it was something about frenzied red-eyed rogues. The shameless rogue who attacked Raelynn.
After looking for almost two hours, my wolf and I groaned out in anger. Though I was werewolf born, the predatory instinct, that feral hunger, still ch
