The dungeon floor was unforgiving against Ronan's skin as he sat, feeling the cold seep into his bones. He could feel it happening - the creeping loss of control over his own actions. His inner wolf spoke to him in a low voice, coaxing him to flee before his darker desires consumed him entirely.
[You should run away before your evil desires win,] his wolf spoke to him.
[Fuck no. I will never run away. This is who I am now.] Ronan found himself saying.
The thrill of destruction and chaos still lingered in his mind, a memory that both terrified and exhilarated him. He could vividly recall the screams and cries of innocent people as he set fire to the city, reveling in their fear and panic. How could he give up such a rush? No, this was who he was now - a creature of darkness, ruled by primal instincts and insatiable urges. And he would never run away from it.