DOMINIC
Lyle, the magic bastard, has ways of pissing me off that no one had been able to reach before.
But that didn’t mean I was going to bend to his f*****g orders and rules; f**k no.
The minute he threw me into the room I gagged, the stench of rotting meat too much to bear.
“Let me out, you fucker!” I roared, pounding my fists on the door.
Amber’s been stabbed, we have to get out of here! My wolf commanded, hurling us once more at the door.
The idea of our mate bleeding in agony, alone, was enough to make me eat my way through the f*****g door.
But it wouldn’t budge.
Not an inch.
Defeated, I turned to take in my surroundings, lifting my shirt to cover my nose. Even my wolf was repulsed, and he ate raw meat.
What was this place?
There were shelves and dusty blankets
