Book 3 -31-

[Drawing A Line]

MALIK

I made myself a cup of coffee, hoping it would shake me out of the funk I was in. Whatever it was—a dream, a vision, whatever—I was still on high alert and shaking with dread. Moreover, it made my decision to cease and desist the fighting against the werewolves difficult after seeing my entire family die such gruesome deaths and being powerless to save them. Or was it implying that would happen unless I stopped the attacks?

The horrified look on my mother’s face as that wolf tore into her flashed across my mind like a traumatic image burned into my brain and was impossible to erase, slicing through me with a sharp pang of pain and regret.

I shuddered, tightening my hold on the coffee mug to shut out the disturbing images replaying in my head—wolves turning on hunters; bloodied corpses strewn across the forest floor as the howls pierced the air.

Desperate to distract myself, I tried to focus on mundane things, sipping slow sips of the steaming cup of coffee,