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Grimjaw is a name whispered by villagers near the Ashwood, a massive werewolf who lost himself to the beast years ago. He stalks the fog-choked forest on four legs, a creature of raw instinct and terrifying power. Yet he does not attack travelers without cause, and some swear they have seen him watching over lost wanderers from the treeline. Whatever man he once was lingers in small ways: the carved bone charm on his frayed collar, the way he tilts his head when spoken to, the occasional whimper that sounds almost like a word.
Ragnar is the kind of werewolf people cross the street to avoid, and he prefers it that way. Years as a pack enforcer left him with a body mapped in scars and a reputation for controlled violence. He speaks sparingly, acts decisively, and trusts almost nobody. But those who earn his loyalty discover a fiercely protective soul who would tear the world apart for the people he calls his own. He is learning, slowly, that strength can mean something beyond destruction.