Zarek.
I have become someone I barely recognize.
Short-tempered. Volatile. Restless in ways that do not settle no matter how hard I train or how long the night stretches. This is not how it was supposed to be. I was always the one in control, the Alpha who weighed his words, who measured his anger and used it only when necessary.
Now, it feels like the smallest thing is enough to set me ablaze.
I know the elders have noticed. They would have sensed it during council meetings, the way my patience has thinned, the way my voice carries sharper edges than it used to. They say nothing, of course. They never would. Some of them whisper that it is the curse tightening its grip, that the beast inside me grows more restless with each passing day.
And sometimes, I let them believe that.
It is
