Rebecca

It happened just after dusk.

One of the newer recruits, a lanky boy named Jace had gone to fetch water from the ravine below camp. He was barely gone ten minutes when the screaming started.

We heard the snap of bone first.

Then the howl.

By the time we got there, Jace was already on the ground, blood painting the rocks beneath him. His arm was mangled. His throat was torn open but not fatal—yet. Two figures crouched over him, pale and feral. Their eyes ...