The Young Lycan
“Four berserkers. Their wolf forms are hideous, just as you wanted.”
Zykos laughed, clapping once with genuine delight. “They’re perfect. You did well this time, Fitz.”
His eyes darkened as he looked at the berserkers.
The sight inside the cage made Liliana’s chest tighten.
Four wolves snarling, broken beyond recognition. Bones pushed out from their joints, their bodies carved up by deep, unhealed wounds. Flesh was rotting, barely clinging to them, like it could fall away at any moment. They were hardly alive, trapped between constant pain and madness.
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