The cavern echoed with snarls. Four Gloomfang Wolves circled slowly around the three intruders who had stepped into their territory. Their claws scraped against the stone floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm while their glowing crimson eyes watched every movement Rowan made.
They were far larger than the dungeon rats. Their shoulders reached almost to Rowan's waist, and the muscles beneath their dark fur shifted like coiled ropes ready to spring. Rowan tightened his grip on his sword. His breathing had already become heavier from the previous fight.
The wolves noticed. Predators always noticed weakness. "…They're watching me," Rowan muttered quietly. Aurelion stood several steps behind him, arms loosely folded as he observed the situation with calm interest. "Yes," the prince said. "That is what hunters do."
