Danill stood in the middle of the ruined battlefield breathing heavily.
Even after slaughtering almost the entire group of vampires none of the wolves transformed back.
Not one.
The massive beasts remained standing among the corpses with glowing eyes and blood soaked fur while steam escaped slowly from their mouths. Their claws flexed against the broken concrete and their ears twitched constantly like predators still sensing danger nearby.
The mansion grounds looked like a war zone.
Bodies were everywhere.
Blood covered the floor in long dark streaks and pieces of flesh were scattered across shattered stone and destroyed cars. The metallic scent in the air had become so thick it almost felt suffocating.
Upstairs Anya still stood pressed tightly against Liam.
Her legs felt weak.
She had just watched seven werewolves massacre dozens of vampires like wild animals unleashed from hell and somehow the wolves still looked tense.
Still alert.
Still dangerous.
Then—
Tap.
Tap.
