The mansion grounds became quiet again but it was not the calm kind of quiet.
It was tense.
Heavy.
The kind that made even the wind feel uncomfortable moving through the air.
Danill stood at the front of the wolves with blood dripping slowly from his claws onto the cracked stone beneath him. Around him lay four vampire corpses scattered across the battlefield in twisted positions while several others dragged themselves backward with deep wounds carved across their bodies.
The vampires had underestimated them badly.
That much was obvious now.
At first they came with the confidence of hunters surrounding weak prey. They thought the few wolves remaining behind would fold quickly under pressure.
Instead they got ripped apart.
Danill slowly rolled his shoulders while keeping his glowing yellow eyes locked on the vampires ahead.
"They know now," one of the wolves muttered beside him.
Danill nodded faintly.
"Yeah."
The vampires knew now.
