Patience's POV
Cyrus slowly turned around, his golden vertical pupils astonishingly bright in the darkness.
The scent of cedar and leather, mingled with the heavy stench of blood, swept over the space like a beast returning from an icy battlefield, carrying an overwhelming dominance that seemed to solidify the air.
His gaze fell on me. That air-freezing aura slightly receded, yet still made me instinctively hold my breath.
I stared at him intently, my wolf cowering slightly under the powerful Lycan aura.
I had never seen such an aggressive Cyrus, as if he would tear apart every living thing in front of him in the next second.
Seemingly noticing my gaze, Cyrus looked up, his golden vertical pupils gleaming coldly in the dim light, while a faint smile played at the corners of his lips.
