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... e floor. Fin dove to the side, crashing into the wall shoulder-first. Pain shot through his arm, but he scrambled up as the wolf spun around, snapping its jaws.

He swung the dagger—missed by a mile. The wolf's claws raked the air, inches from his chest, and he stumbled back, tripping over his own feet.

Laughter echoed from outside—Red Hair, probably. "Slum boy's gonna be dog food!" he heard through the door.

"Shut up!" Fin yelled, but his voice cracked. The wolf charged a ...

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