LUCIAN
The car engine hums low like a caged beast as we travel through the packs. I sit in the back seat, one leg bouncing, the other still. Fenrir growls inside me, agitated. He hates this.
“Faster,” he growls. “We should’ve been there already.”
“We’ll get there,” I mutter, “we’ll get there.”
“You’re too calm, too f*****g calm! They touched what’s ours.”
“And that’s why I’m not storming in blind.”
“They poisoned her, they left her bleeding in our arms, and you’re sitting still?”
“I’m not still,” I grit out. “I’m calculating. If we lose control now, we lose the kill.”
He snarls savagely. “I don’t just want the kill, I want the s*******r. I want their bones under our claws. I want their screams to echo in their goddess-damned bloodlines.”
“You think I don’t?”
Then why are we
