-NIA’S POV-
The day was a feral, crude, unspeakable horror.
My flitting eyes flicked back and forth from Lykoan to the syringe.
A trickle of cold sweat slithered down my nape. Dread gripped my heart like a frozen fist and I swallowed as my flesh erupted with painful chills.
My lips parted to speak, and I suddenly realized that they were quivering with fear, along with my entire body. “What's in that?”
“Death,” Zeek terse. “For you, of course.”
“Wait. I….um,” I panicked, unable to think straight, smelling my own blood.
“I wouldn't move if I were you.” He kept his cold eyes on Lykoan.
My body shook uncontrollably, and my thoughts went haywire. My wolf was so distraught that she withdrew with a whine.
Back on the field, Lykoan towered over Iscariot's bleeding body that lay on the
