ELIAS
The surreal sight that greeted me made me pause, my heart hammering against my ribs like it had been since the moment it sank in that I was going to the North Clan with none other than the Hellhound himself.
But to see a sleeping pack around a dimming fire, waiting for the Hellhound and his retinue, halted my steps.
Even stranger was the glee that followed when they were finally spotted. It looked human and nothing like the beastly hordes the stories spoke of.
An old woman embraced the gaunt man—Rowan—like he was her own son. He looked strangely familiar.
A small boy broke down crying in Thorne's arms, demanding answers he couldn't give.
They loved him.
These people actually loved the monster.
Yet it was beginning to dawn on me that the Hellhound was not some creature that ripped spines from bodies, even if I did see some corpses strewn around the border of the territory like some eerie warning.
