The werewolf shifted back to human form, revealing an elderly man with silver hair and scars that spoke of a lifetime of battles. His clothes were torn and bloody, and his eyes fixed on me with something between recognition and disgust.
"You," he spat, blood trickling from a cut on his lip. " I heard that We banished you, cast you out for what you are. And you come back with fire in your hands and witches at your side?"
The accusation hit like a physical blow. I'd thrown myself into danger to save their children, put myself between them and death, and all they could see was the magic in my blood and the company I kept.
"I'm trying to help," I said, but the words sounded hollow even to me.
The elder laughed, a bitter sound that carried decades of pain and loss. "Help? You bring destruction wherever you go, girl. The bridge between our peoples burned the day you were turned, and every step you take turns the ashes to poison."
