“"Please, no, don't . . ." She tried to pull back but could not. She begged, but the beast would not listen. Still the nightwolf fed, digging its teeth into her arm, ripping flesh, shaking its head and tugging and clawing, tearing tendons, cracking bone. Koyee wept, her ruin of an arm trapped within the beast's mouth, and she screamed as it ate her. "He's eating me . . . please, stars, please . . . he's eating me alive . . ." But the wolf was gone; it had never been a wolf at all. Her arm lay wi...thin a pile of smoking bones, not a beastly mouth. Bits of charred flesh still clung to the pile, hot, searing her. She recognized these remains. Here were the bones of her father, stacked in a wheelbarrow, and Koyee screamed again, trying to pull her arm loose, lost in the darkness. The bones were so hot, crackling with flame, and she watched her arm wither until it too was only a bone, only a smooth shaft coated with burnt skin. She wept. "Help . . . help me, please . . ." A hand touched her forehead.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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