REBIRTH OF THE STORMWOLF
Moaning on the hinges like a growling beast, long undisturbed, immediately the door faced away, and a scent hit my nose, something damp, like old books or dried herbs or something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.
Inside the chamber was a small round room, the walls covered in faded writings and symbols. I couldn't make head or tail of what it was talking about.
There were stacked books on the floor, and at the center was a table with an object wrapped in a faded red cloth.
Curious, I moved closer, holding the tip of the cloth to see what lay behind it. I heard my wolf whimper.
"Don't touch it," I heard her purring into my ears, but it was already too late.
Sikat na Kabanata