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“Right,” Martyn said, trembling. He rounded the corner and what he saw scared him shitless. A hulking beast, a mass of fur and bones, two piercing yellow eyes, staring into him, staring into his soul, like they knew what he was, a sinner, a sinner—
There was a lamb at its feet. Its neck was torn up, blood coating the white wool. Martyn wanted to run so badly. He forced himself to stay. For Specs. “I don’t know what you bloody are, or what you’ve done with Specs, but you listen here you—”
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Ren is a werewolf. Martyn finds him.