LUCIAN SLADE

Fifteen years ago:

“Do you not think you are being unfair? Michael is his elder brother for the love of the goddess,” my mother screamed at the elders of the pack while glaring at me with a hatred so sharp that it felt like it could slice through skin. “What about me? Am I not fit to rule this pack?” Her voice rose louder, echoing through the hall, carrying the frustration of a woman who had always believed the world ought to bow at her feet.

The oldest elder rose to his ...