Chris's POV
I stand in my room, chest heaving, veins boiling with rage. How the hell did Dylan do it? How did he kill all those men—rip them apart like they were paper, like they were nothing?
That Dylan… the Dylan I grew up knowing couldn’t have pulled off something like that—not alone. No way. He was supposed to run like a coward. That’s what Father predicted. That was the plan. That bastard was supposed to flee, tail tucked between his legs, not stand his ground and turn into some bloodthirsty monster.
I was supposed to be the hero last night. The star. The savior of the people. Not him. Not Dylan.
Everything was going according to plan until he ruined it. Now all I can think about is how the hell my father is going to explain this catastrophe to the Alpha of the Red Moon Pack.
W
