Elias Moretti stared grimly at the surging black mist, not saying a word.
The next instant, he abruptly coiled his body. His scarlet form became a crimson streak, shooting toward the mist. As he slithered, broken scales flaked from his body, oozing blood.
Gable shook his head, thinking, 'Evangeline is carrying a Fallen Beastman's cub. How could he possibly protect them?'
Thorne raced back to the cave, the thick stench of blood instantly flooding his nostrils.
Mixed in with that sickly sweet, coppery smell was a scent he knew all too well.
Thorne's expression changed drastically, his blood running cold.
His face deathly pale, he looked at Evangeline lying on the stone bed. Her eyes, which always sparkled with a cunning light, were shut tight. Fine beads of sweat dotted her pale face, and her swollen belly rose and fell with each breath.
He had never seen her look so fragile, as if she would shatter at the slightest touch.
