17 Chapter 17

The first time he stood toe to toe with a wolf, he had been fourteen. Already standing nearly six-feet tall, he had been pathetically scrawny and under-developed. He hadn’t been armed then, either. By all rights, he should have been torn limb by limb and devoured. Ignorant of his own strength, untrained, and frightened, he had been the perfect target. He had tried to run at first, but the wolf wouldn’t let him get far. He had cornered Darren at the end of a street, against a chain-link fence, all teeth and claws and silver saucer eyes. That was the night Darren learned he was immune to a wolf’s bite.

It was also the night he vowed a wolf would never get another chunk from him. In fifteen years, no other wolf had.