A Wyre’s bite is lethal. You either die or turn into a monster. Your spirit animal is ripped apart, shredded, and molded into something…wilder. More dangerous.
But a Wyre’s claws are just as painful.
I know I’m in a bed, warm covers wrapped around my shivering body, but I’m not fully aware of what’s going on. There are voices that come and go, though the words are too muffled for me to make any sense of them. Rough hands wipe a cold cloth across my forehead, the chill jarring and uncomfortable. Heat blazes through me, sending me deeper into the shadows.
“…who was it?”
“I didn’t see—”
“You were supposed to be watching out…”
The voices fall silent. I can’t make sense of who’s who. Each one blends together, melting as one and grating through my mind. The shadows twist around me, my s
