C17 Rogue: The Blackhoof Wolf

The room was deadly still.

John was petrified. He stood like a pillar of salt where he was—his face frozen and sweaty, his mouth trembling and hanging open.

Lyra reacted at once. She jumped from the stool and ran to where the man lay. She gently lifted his head from the floor, her hands becoming sticky with thick blood.

“Who did this to you?” she asked.

“He’s… back!” the man gasped