The sun beat down on Oliver’s furry body, the gentle lapping of water at his legs stirring him awake with a groan of pain. Every muscle ached, a sharp reminder of the brutal attack. Flashes of snarling rogues, teeth tearing at his flesh, flickered through his mind. He was wildly aware that his soul had left his body, only to be inexplicably returned. The Goddess had been a hair’s breadth away, ready to guide him onward to the sweet taste of the afterlife, to feast with his fallen brothers and his mother.

But it was torn from him. He was sent away, banished back to Earth to suffer the pain of mortality. His wolf stirred within his mind, clearly not appreciating the dramatics, as he slowly came to. Oliver lifted his head, the dry sand from the ground beneath him coating his tongue. He let out a wolfish cough to clear his throat, his legs wobbling as he struggled to pull his body upright. His left hind leg remained limp, a constant, throbbing agony. He could still smell the world around him, letting him know he was not alone. A dark tickle in his mind motivated him to move forward, imagining ripping the beating hearts from the rogues who had 'killed' him. They had made a mistake.