Iris's POV
My vision was clouded with red, a haze of rage and pain pulsing through me as I sprinted through the forest. Thorns and brambles snagged at my skin, tearing it as it gushed out a little drop of blood, but I felt no pain, absolutely nothing. Behind me, I could smell some wolves chasing after me. Their scent growing stronger within every inch. I didn't know where I was running to, only that I needed to move, as I followed my instinct, running to no direction to avoid the suffocating truth of who I'd become.
I was no longer just Iris, the outcast, the girl who stayed on the lowest of the pack. I was something more, something I could not even understand, something that terrifies me. The Mother of Wolves, the elder, had called me. The words echoed in my mind relentlessly.
