Werewolf short stories
The shadows kept coming, relentless, suffocating.
And then I felt it—something sharp, cold, cutting through my defenses, striking deep into my core. I gasped, my knees buckling as the world spun around me. I looked down, and there, embedded in my chest, was a dark shard, pulsing with Orin’s vile energy.
My vision blurred as I heard Orin’s voice, soft and mocking. “This is only the beginning, little Queen. Enjoy your reign while it lasts.”
Bab Populer