Beaumo

the potion. The empty bowl slipped from his trembling fingers and sh

stol, though my grip remaine

ange, unfamiliar heat was blooming in his belly, and

bling back a step. "Why

ur own medicine," I said,

less, before the drug fully took hold. And even less ti

the room swimming in a haze of heat and rising desire. He was losing cont

y thin nightgown. The cool fabric was a shield, a barrier against the sordid

ck. A sliver of cold night air sliced into the room, a wel

cus. He was no longer a man. He was a beast. The potion had stripped away every shred of his reason, leaving only a mindless, raging animal. He was compl

ble upon that scene. The noble Alpha werewolf would witness with his own eyes his cherished granddaughter bei

ed. I was the director now. Cand

the hallway, shattering the silence. "Alistair! You mu

oice. Perf

inally broke through

y. With a guttural roar that was more ani

for this. What I did next was self-d

- a she-wolf's right to protect herself. As he blundered past me, my foot shot out, not at him, but at the metal food thermos I ha

oss the polished floor like a curling stone, di

madness to react. He could no longer perceive his surroundings, n

of gravit

ied him forward. I never pushed him. I never touched him beyond that evas

body pitched forward, out of control. He fla

ver the low raili

ond, he was silhouetted

he wa

from the garden below, followed

d it. Broken, perhaps - but breat

stepped back, melting into the deep sh

e bedroom door burst ope

ock and righteous fury, my grandfather Alistair

e to catch th

stage wa