56

ZAYNE

Tate fills me in on what I missed during the ritual when the faint scent of rot permeated the air, uncomfortable with its close proximity I circled around to dispatch the feral beings swiftly.

Without shifting, it was slightly challenging to pinpoint the location, usually, I can sense trespassers with uncanny accuracy, but tonight, my instinct is already on alert, it would have been impossible to sense additional threats were it not for the rotten scent that clung to rogue wolves, as there were already strangers on my territory in white garb and white dyed hair, the same threats I’ve been tolerating for the past week.

I’m going to take my time gutting them just for the mental stress alone, shouldn’t be long now…

I fall in beside Tate, having already washed the blood off my hands in the lake I sniff my shirt one last time, the faint smell of rot and blood clings to me and will stay there until I shower it off. “That was fast,” he comments without turning to me, “How many