The next evening I called Paul. "Can I see you?"
"It's difficult right now. I'm a bloody mess, and it seems as if I'll never get to the end of biting and ripping flesh."
I could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and it caused me to worry about him.
"The wolf is showing me what to do, but it's anxious. When I think it's time to stop, it pushes me."
"Oh, Paul. Is it terrible?"
He sighed. "No. It's wonderful."
The succubus twirled inside of me, and I squashed her back down, promising her that she would have her time to play.
"And how is Ran?"
"He's handling the pain better than anyone. He never screams."
I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat.
Technically I knew how Paul had been turned into a werewolf. He had been bitten repeatedly over the course of two months—two months because the virus didn't take the first time. And with Jason and Tyler, well, they had been partially devoured.