The sun is burning above us. And while I feel like the overwhelming heat is crushing us, the army of rogues in front of us seems unbothered.
I see Tomas standing proud, looking directly at me like I'm prey.
Pity and hate dance together in my mind as I remember his tragic memories, but looking at the dead bodies that stand in front of him. Dead bodies of my subject. Dead bodies of my pack. Dead bodies of the people I have sworn to protect.
"Didn't you say you want to build a kingdom in which packs and rogues can leave together in harmony, Tomas?" I ask, spitting the words in the wind.
But his grin makes me shiver.
"Who's Tomas?" He asks, but the voice is different. The words are mispronounced. He sounds like he didn't speak for centuries and only now he has to learn it again,
"Did yo
