Leaving the building, Fenris hurriedly made his way to buy a new set of clothes. The armor he wore was bulky, uncomfortable, and, worst of all, hideously ugly. Fenris wasn’t the type who liked attention—he couldn’t afford it, considering what he was—but if he were to get noticed, he certainly didn’t want it to be while wearing the human casket currently draped over him.


    He found a tailor’s shop and purchased a shirt, a pair of trousers, and, most importantly, a cloak. The cloak was an essential item for him. Once he was alone, he opened his map. As before, words, pictures, and diagrams began to materialize, with a small triangle indicating his current location.


    According to the map, he was in the Kingdom of Pyros. Of course, he already knew that; what he truly wanted to determine was how far he was from his next destination.


    Pyros was one of the five great kingdoms of the continent—perhaps even of the world—each named after a god, much like the other four kingdoms. Fenris had come here specifically to follow the trail of Luna, his friend, his savior, and, ultimately, his abandoner.


    From their many conversations, he knew she was from here. The town of her birth was only a few days away on foot. If she wasn’t there, Fenris might have to give up his search altogether. He had already spent two years looking for her. She had left him without a word, leaving only a letter saying he no longer needed her.


    Why was he doing this? Why had he traveled so far for someone who didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye properly? Was it closure he sought? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted to see her one more time.


    Earlier, Fenris had told Sonya, the sorceress who updated his map, that he planned to head north. That, of course, was a lie.


    Luna’s hometown lay to the east. Once the bodies of the men Fenris had killed were found—and once it was revealed that they weren’t members of the Hunters’ Guild but rather con men who had burned an innocent girl at the stake for money—they would start looking for him. So he had lied to Sonya, hoping to throw them off his trail.


    He’d been doing this for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t something to take pride in—just something necessary to survive.


    He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and began walking, leaving the town behind. Walking to his destination would take three days, but running could get him there in half a day. Being a werewolf granted him an array of abilities normal humans couldn’t even fathom—superhuman speed was one of them.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    If Fenris started running now, giving it his all, he’d almost be a blur moving through the forest, leaping from tree to tree. The thought of such freedom made Fenris smile.


    But alas, he couldn’t—not now, not during the day, and certainly not with witnesses around. Any witnesses would need to be “dealt with” to keep his secret, and Fenris wasn’t in the mood for more bloodshed. He’d have to wait until the moon rose to experience true freedom.


    Still walking, not yet out of town, and with the sun shining above, Fenris had a troubling thought. What if he didn’t find Luna? What then? Would he return to searching for answers about his past? He might as well; his earliest memory was waking up in a field as a child, remembering only his name and little else.


    He’d been about eight, perhaps nine, when that happened. Since then, he’d been alone, hopping from pack to pack. But every pack he joined seemed cursed—always found by hunters, with most of its members killed and the survivors scattering in terror.


    Fenris had fled from place to place, always afraid, never understanding why the world seemed to want him dead. Was it a crime to exist? His life had changed when he met Luna, a beautiful young sorceress with an inexplicable fascination for werewolves. Fenris never understood why she took an interest in him but was grateful for it nonetheless.


    She had taught him much—about the world, about magic, about the gods that ruled over it. Above all, she had tried to teach Fenris how to truly live, not merely survive. Yet despite her efforts, survival was all he knew when she wasn’t by his side.


    Then, it suddenly hit him—the real reason he was doing all of this. If he didn’t find Luna, he’d be utterly alone. He had no one else in this world except her. The realization was both depressing and horrifying.


    Fenris stopped in his tracks, allowing the weight of the thought to sink in. Snapping out of his daze, he noticed the sun beginning to set. “Finally,” he murmured, a hint of excitement in his voice.


    Not long after, the sky transformed from its golden glow to a deep, star-studded darkness. The air grew colder, and a gentle breeze swept past him.


    Finally, the moon emerged—not full, but a crescent. Fenris would take what he could get.


    At night, Fenris felt more powerful than ever. He was stronger, faster, and his senses became sharper. It was as though a translucent blindfold had been removed from his eyes, his ears and nose cleared, and the weights shackled to his limbs cast off. The moonlight invigorated him.


    His eyes began to glow a bright yellow, his incisors elongated, his canines sharpened, and his nails grew thick and claw-like. Fenris looked around. He had left the town far behind and now stood alone in the forest. There were no humans in sight.


    After the stress of the day, this was exactly what he needed—to relax and take his mind off his troubles.


    Dropping to all fours, Fenris prepared himself. He had to do this right, or it wouldn’t be worth it.


    “Let’s run,” he whispered with a feral grin, his sharp teeth gleaming and his glowing yellow eyes piercing the darkness.