"Titus!" Galen's voice was hoarse and trembling, trying to reach her former kinsman.
But in those Beast Eyes, there was no longer the warmth of kinship, only the crimson blaze of starvation.
Gamar held Lachlan, her rough palm gently patting his head over and over. "Don't be afraid... don't be afraid..." she whispered. "Mother is here with you..."
Titus's sharp claws tore through the air with a piercing shriek.
Galen turned her head away, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn't bear to watch.
'I can't just stand by and watch Brother Lachlan, the man I adore, be torn to shreds in a pool of blood.'
"ARGH—"
A miserable cry of pain from Titus rang out, followed immediately by the dull thud of an impact against the stone wall!
Galen's eyes snapped open. Before her stood a slender figure, familiar yet strange.
She stood by the pile of straw, her gaze fixed on Brother Lachlan. Those enchanting eyes, which usually held a smile, were now filled with ice.
