Chapter 6

“My wolf is in check, Guardian.” I take a quick glance down at my leg. It hurts more than usual today.

Healing has always been something werewolves thrive at. We heal quickly and we almost never have terrible scars, unless you are unlucky like me. The night I turned 16, I shifted. 2 years earlier than most and I was so happy I couldn’t help but take off running and embrace the feeling of euphoria it brought me. I felt invincible and strong. Until I came across a ground of grown rogues. They were merciless, tearing at me from every side as I tried to fight. I was the Alpha’s son, the strongest of wolves, or I would have been if I had been old enough to actually shift. After they brought me to the brink of death, they carried me to the abandoned well on the property line and threw me in.

I waited to heal, but it was slow and painful. After a long time, my pack found me bloody and still injured. I should have healed by the time they found me. I should have been able to craw