Vincent.
The iron bowstring hummed under the tension of my draw, vibrating against my leather gauntlet with a sweet, promised violence.
I looked down the shaft of the black arrow, my eye locked directly on the center of Noah's chest. The local Alpha was leaning against the stone wall, his breath coming in shallow, ragged wheezes, his face pale from the remnant traces of the wolfsbane I had personally fed him over the past month. Beside him, Adrein stood like a feral dog, covered in the blood of my strike team, his broadsword trembling in his grip from pure physical exhaustion.
A dark, intoxicating wave of excitement rushed through my veins.
