REID
The first rogue didn't even have time to growl before I tore his throat out.
I wasn't fighting like an Alpha. I wasn't leading. I was a butcher. Every time a claw managed to graze my skin, I leaned into the sting.
I welcomed the sharp, hot distraction.
Physical pain was a gift. It was a flickering candle in the absolute, freezing darkness Rayne had left in my head when she rejected our bond.
"Kill them all," my wolf snarled, his voice a distorted echo of my own agony.
I didn't use my claws. I used my teeth. I used my weight to crush bones. I wanted to feel the spray of blood, to hear the wet snap of ribs.
I wanted to be a monster because being a man was too much to bear.
By the time the clearing went silent, the snow was stained a deep, steaming crimson.
I stood in the cen
