Nimrod: Hit them in the face

On the right side of the canyon, the Space Wolves fell silent.

Sanchez had not used sorcery. He had defeated Jorin, Wolf Lord of the 13th Great Company, cleanly and decisively.

In the dead hush, the Wolf Lord of the 3rd Great Company, Ogvi Ogvi Heimschrut, blinked once in his sunken sockets. He stiffly turned his eyes toward the figure in black armor and golden wings within the canyon.

Although Nimrod stood below, Ogvi felt as if he were looking up at him, not down.

His upper lip bit down on the heavy silver ring that pierced his lower lip, resisting the instinct to kneel.

He heard the tremor of armor around him. The wolf pack was resisting that supernatural pressure with fury.

Ogvi forced himself out of that contest of wills and into the cold gaze of a hunter, studying Nimrod.

He was taller than the alpha wolf, and even more powerfully built. That was rare.

Deep in Ogvi's eyes, a hint of worry surfaced.

No. The alpha wolf will not lose to Nimrod twice.

The alpha wolf killed the fallen Hannibal.

He gained mighty power from that sinful devouring, but the alpha wolf still won.

At that thought, the worry in Ogvi's eyes faded. As he opened his mouth, he revealed a maw of fangs like a full-grown wolf's, and as his long canines parted, he roared out a howl more wolfish than any giant wolf's.

The wolf pack jolted awake as if from a dream and howled in fury.

Melon, the Faceless Ones Librarian Apprentice, looked hopefully at the mighty body in the canyon.

From his overlooking vantage, he could finally glimpse Lord Nimrod's face.

That sharply defined, noble face; those obsidian, bottomless eyes were like whirlpools, drawing him in like magnets.

Yet their bright, piercing radiance