Patch POV
Fenrir’s guts!
How many rogues were still in the castle? Patch had lost count. Maybe they bred on the spot and emerged fully grown. He wouldn’t put it past Hades to hatch shifters like geese. A silly image, and one that would probably make him have nightmares of wolf-geese hybrids trying to attack him. It was a known fact that geese could be meaner than wolves at times.
Lilia’s worried voice jolted him out of his daydreaming. “Where did Mother go?” Then, she bellowed at the rogues, “What did you do with my mother?”
Those words reached him above the noise made by the rogues.
Bram smelled angry, like pepper. “WHERE’S MY FATHER?”
“Oblivion,” the lead rogue said as he smirked.
Dane snarled, “You’re lying. I can smell it. Or at least you better be lying if you want to live.”
