Whatever the higher purpose, Lisa was resigning herself to the fact that werewolves had become her life. They had ripped her soul mate away from her, right in front of her, thrusting her into their world for good. Call it the cruelty of providence, call it coincidence, call it what you will, but Lisa was accepting the fact that this was now her lot in life, and forever would be. You've been lucky, said the voice in the back of her mind. You're not indestructible. Then what the hell have I been doing all this time?Following a path. A path? To where? To here. The destination means nothing without the journey it took to get there, Lisa. Half-drunk bullshit! I'm supposed to fight! Yes. You are.She picked up her second bottle of Southern Comfort and cracked the cap. She was going to have to be a lot drunker than she was to do what she was about to do...