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15. Designing my death

Neem

I place the pineapples in my basket and continue forward in the market. I paste a smile on my face and take small easy steps, blending in with the hundreds of other wolves. Anything so I don’t attract the attention of the myriad king’s soldiers on patrol. A hint of rebellion or trouble-making and these soldiers will sink their claws into you and march you towards the palace. And you bet that would be the last you will be seen.

There is nothing like crime in Lyria, we are too ‘civilised’ for that. A pretty coating for the truth. Every crime no matter how petty is punished. Thieves and liars are taken into those mountains, and they are never seen again.

“Pretty lady, I have something that will interest you.” The owner of the next stall calls.

It’s Melda, the fat she-wolf. She is somewhat of a mystery because werewolves have such a fast metabolism that we burn away any excess fat straight away. But not her. Some people say it is because she used to work in the castle before she w
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