THE WOLF WITHIN 

Later that day, Tristan's eyes gazed into the mirror, his reflection staring back like a stranger. He saw the sharp jawline, the piercing yellow eyes, the skin now sensitive to the full moon's call. He felt the weight of his new body, the muscles rippling beneath his skin like a wild animal's.

"What have I become?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

He thought of Cathryn and Rosalind, their faces etched in his mind like a haunting memory. They were like him, creatures of the night, monsters. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he remembered the transformation, the agony and ecstasy of his body contorting into a wolf's.

"I'm a monster," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "A beast, a creature without control or reason."

Tristan's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms like claws. He felt the primal urge to run, to hunt, to surrender to the wolf's instincts. But he fought it, his mind rebelling against the loss of humanity.

"I won't give in," he growled, his eye