The Wolf's Game
Elyra steps in front of me.
I grab her wrist. “Elyra, no, he’s not attacking.”
“But he’s not right,” she snaps quietly. “Look at him.”
I do, and I wish I hadn’t. Half his face is missing, and the exposed muscle twitches like worms moving beneath the skin. His mask shifts, not connected to any sort of real expression, just sliding grotesquely against bone. His body spasms once, twice, and then he jerks upright.
“Aria Vale,” he croaks. “Elyra Nox.”
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