She was in the lavish bathroom, standing beneath the hot, soothing spray of the numerous shower heads. Her mind replayed the events leading up to Aleksander saving her as she sighed deeply and leaned her forehead against the cool tiles.
She remembered the previous evening at the base of the hill, the night she believed her life was over. Her permanent transformation into a werewolf was the outcome of the moment she had feared.
She had excruciating pain in her hand, face, and entire body.
She understood she was now experiencing what others call lycanthropy, or the power to shift into a werewolf. It was agonizing and slow, lasting more than five hours, and felt almost like torture. Soon she resembled no more than a ravenous wild animal that ate anything it could get her hands on.
Izabell
