It took less than ten minutes before the fully-grown man was reduced to shreds. They left his head and entrails and very little else.Jack had watched, horrified, the violence and sheer ruthlessness of the attack left him bereft of any will.Sated, the wolves backed away, leaving his silver furred mate standing over the remains of the man. His blood soaked clothes shredded and scattered in an arc around her. She looked at him; blood stained her muzzle and yipped her invitation for him to feed. He trotted over to her and the bloody pile and sniffed. The stench of blood and shit made him gag. Turning away, he retched on an empty stomach.He could hear the pack laughing at his condition, all except her. She stood and silently told him to eat. Challenging him to take his first share of a victim. He refused and started to run in the first direction he could, his tail tucked under him.He didn’t go too far though, his sexual exertions and lack of food soon had him panting and needing to rest.. He cringed away from the noise and felt the floor tilt and move, fighting the nausea that kept threatening to overwhelm him. A voice called his name and all he could do was hold up one finger for them to go away and let him die. He pulled the wastebasket over and put it between his legs, breathing as deeply as the pain would allow. If he threw up the pill, it wouldn't do him any good. If he took anything stronger, the injections that would send the pain spinning away, also spun him away. He would be no good to anyone. Like he was good for anything now.He felt a cool hand on his forehead, heard a sweet, husky voice call his name. He leaned into the hand, absorbing the comfort the coolness brought."I'm fine," he groaned out between gritted teeth.Michelle looked down at the figure all but curled under the desk, the anger that had brought her fuming in here disappearing at one look at his white face. She crouched down next to him, concern etching her forehead. This wasn't a hangover..
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