CHAPTER 55

　　I watched as the brown wolf collapsed on the floor, blood and white foam dripping from its maw as the entire hall stared in horror. I dropped the piece of meat I was gnawing on, bile rising in my throat as I stared at the crimson puddle around it grow and grow, the smell of blood and death filling the room even before the light had completely died from its eyes.

　　Michael was on his feet, his hands propped on the table in front of him as he growled in frustration. Once the wolf half-ran, half-dragged itself into the room, it had tried to shift, but the poor animal seemed in too much shock and pain to do it. Only parts of it had turned human — his feet and one of his front legs had discarded its fur in favor of smooth dark skin, half of its face turning into a grotesque picture of skin, fur and teeth.

　　Someone vomited and two of the warriors neared the body cautiously, disgust and fear coming from them in waves.