I threw myself into my job—hell, I lived for my job. I decided to become the best Protector the Society had ever seen.” “Did you?” “No.” He gave her a rueful smile. “In retrospect, that’s probably a good thing. My friend Simon—you met him at Brigid’s earlier—was always a few steps ahead of me. Poor guy got himself known as The Terminator, because he’d exterminated so many Ferals.” “By Ferals you mean wild shifters?” “Right. We were supposed to go assess them, decide if they could be rehabilitated and brought back into society. The thinking was that if they were left to stay wild, they could become dangerous to humans and to others. And of course, there’s always the risk they could expose the Pack.” “How many did you save?” “At first, I tried to save all of them. But I nearly got killed twice and then I realized I had to be more objective. I began carrying out more kill orders. Eventually, I burned out.” “That must have been hard on you.” She couldn’t imagine what he’d felt like.
