The night after the interrogation stretched endlessly, leaving me tangled in restless sheets.

Every time I shut my eyes, the silver flash of claws haunted me, the brutal snarl of the assassin wolf still ringing in my ears. But more than that, another image returned over and over:

The heavy wine bottle pressed into the palm of a guard, his sly smile as he pocketed it, the subtle nod he gave me before letting me slip into the cell.

That guard… I never even caught his name.

And ...