Wolf Den [I]
When werewolves aren't frolicking through forests and lusting through mating season, they're busy orchestrating Wendigo, the nation's largest and most sophisticated syndicate of illegal procurement.
Organ trafficking to be exact.
The doors are always open and the Wendigo are always hunting. After all, nice fresh flesh is always in demand. Something Ahzren will, unfortunately, come to realise. But falling prey to harvesters is the worst thing that could happen, right?
Then she realises her own pack have a target trained on her back. They think Ahzren has blood on her hands. She can't remember how.
Only one thing is for certain. The puppetmasters behind the black market aren't the only beasts masked in human flesh. There's one right here, boiling beneath her skin, yearning to get out. Craving freedom, to feel the wind rush through its pelt, to feel grass beneath its paws. To feel flesh between its teeth.
The forbidden kind.
Ahzren always knew she wasn't quite human, but now it looks like she isn't quite wolf either.