The Werewolf's Bride
Cynthia Agwu secret of blackthorn hallblackthorn manorblackthorn and grimblackthorn skyrim
Elara walked into the Pit alone.
The crowd closed ranks behind her. Lira was already inside, rolling her shoulders, cracking her knuckles. She had stripped down to leather leggings and a tight band of cloth across her chest—ready for the shift, ready to fight in either form. Her red hair was tied back in a brutal knot. Scars gleamed on her arms and throat like silver threads.
“Human,” Lira called, voice carrying across the circle. “Last chance to crawl back to whatever hole you came from.”