Only scattered flames flickered in the dark, cramped prison.
Low growls raged in her ears.
Anbi covered her trembling, snow-white ears and curled up in a corner of the cell.
Dimly, she thought she could hear a piercing wolf howl.
It seemed to become a call, clinging to her ears and repeating its murmured chant:
"Monster, monster, monster..."
"No, no—"
She fought that savagery, even as dense, snow-white fur covered the bulging veins on the backs of her hands.
"Anbi has to stay with her sister. Anbi can't become a monster."
She feared becoming a beast, feared losing her family, and feared hurting them even more.
Yet the unease born of that terror only became a potent catalyst for her bestial nature.
She felt as though her face was about to sprout fur and twist out of shape.
She began to crave food, to crave blood.
Drool ran from the corners of her mouth. She was about to lose control.
She wanted to tear something apart.
Until she was about to choose her own family—
"No, no!"
"Child, it's a nightmare. Only a nightmare."
Anbi felt warmth envelop her.
She remembered that feeling.
It was her sister's embrace.
That startled her awake, and she saw the face of the person holding her—
A werewolf covered in brown fur.
"Help—"
Anbi jumped in fright and hurriedly struggled free of her embrace, backing toward the corner.
But she was already in the corner. In the end, she could only clutch her legs tightly and stare at that wolf's head in terror.
The werewolf did not approach her, merely continuing to soothe her softly:
"Relax, relax. You're still yourself. You're very strong. Nothing has changed."
"Ms. Marian?"
She recognized the werewolf and looked down at her hands in bewilderment, then touched her cheeks—