Althea’s throat went dry. The cries outside grew louder, the sound of chaos closing in, and she knew something far worse was about to unfold. She bit her lower lip and prepared herself for the worst.
The sound of claws scraping against the walls made Althea’s blood run cold. A guttural growl followed, deep and feral. The corridor trembled as if something monstrous was moving closer.
With a violent crash, a massive white-furred lycan, its coat stained with blood, burst out of the shadows, destroying the walls of Althea’s bedchamber. Her golden eyes burned with fury, her features twisted in rage.
Riela’s lycan form might have been magnificent, even beautiful, if not for the wild anger blazing in her gaze.
She moved with unnatural speed. The guards rushed to restrain her, but she ripped
