The Bone King

They did not give me a name.

Names are for the living.

They gave me bone.

They gave me silence.

They gave me purpose.

I was chosen not because I was strong. Not because I was worthy.

But because I was empty.

And emptiness makes the perfect vessel.

The Bone Crown slid onto my skull three nights ago.

It did not rest. It rooted.

Fused.

Fed.

I don’t remember who I was before.

A rogue Alpha, maybe. A traitor. A forgotten heir. It doesn’t matter.

Now, I am more than wolf. More than man.

I am memory.

I am malice.

I am the death of prophecy.

The...