Not Just an Incubator: The Omega's Revenge

a

my being scre

ffects of the Wolfsbane were brutal, a poison that lingered in the b

couldn

er voice desperate in m

. A Greyhound bus was idling at the station, its engine rumbling

uled there. It was a sanctuary for the lost, a

ed at my pale, rain-soaked face, saw the trembling

bus pulled away, I watched the city lights f

into a fev

earing through a dark forest, paws thundering against the earth. Behind me, a black shadow mon

and snapped back. My roar shook the trees,

sp, my heart hammer

there,

d eyes crinkled at the corners and wore a knitted shawl.

eam?" s

," I croaked, my thr

through a war," she said, h

hav

he night. We arrived in a small town call

er. It smelled of grapes and rich soil, a sh

motel. I just

always finds

he grocery store. I had bought bread and

. What do w

y were dirty, their clothes torn. Rogues. Wolves without

red, sniffing the air. "And she s

I said, clutchin

, a predatory grin stretchin

ched f

ct too

er. Time seemed to

lic-but the ancient power of the White W

bag. I grabb

ra

t. Like a

eamed, falling

r than I ever had before. I kicked one in the knee, shattering t

e ground, groan

hard. My hands were shaking

voice vibrating with a

g at me with abject terror.

my energy draining as quickly a

ress

un a

nd of the alley. She was leaning on a cane,

" she introd

t mean to..."

f her cane echoing in the quiet alley. She looked deep into my

hamed. "Please do

d out a small jar of ointment. "I'm a healer. I don't tell

n my arm. The pain vanished instantly,

tral doesn't mean safe. You have a rare bloodline. Yo

h me?" I aske

ow. We'll have tea. And we'll talk abo

the first time since I left

I had foun