Chapter 19

Lyra's POV

Rune was all over the place with laughter. The pulsing light from his grimoire was not helping matters.

“Alright then,” I said, pouting, “what's the story?”

He cleared his throat like he had been waiting for a chance to tell this story.

“Allow me,” he said.

“In the ancient land of Arcadia, there ruled a king named Lycaon, a man renowned for his cruelty and brutality.”

He paused to see my reactions, I felt stupid as he told his tale.

“He was a tyrant who delighted in the suffering of others, and his reign was marked by countless atrocities.”

In all of my knowledge of werewolves, the fictions by the way, none of them began this way. The best that I could lay hold of was getting bit by a rabid wolf or another wolf.

But those wolves or werewolves had to have an origin too.

Rune's voice coupled with the tale he told snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Lycaon's palace was a place of darkness and fear, where the sounds of screams and wailing echoed through the halls.”

“One day, Ze