The air in the grand hall dropped another ten degrees, the ancient stone walls seeming to press inward as Serena’s manic laughter echoed off the vaulted ceiling. She didn't look defeated; she looked like a cornered animal that had finally decided to chew its own leg off to spite the hunter.
"Trapped?" Serena’s voice rose, cracking with a frantic, unhinged edge. Her thumb hovered a millimeter above the detonator switch. "Oh, Bella. You still think this is a game of chess. You’re standing in a slaughterhouse, and I hold the key to the abattoir door."
Damien’s muscles coiled, his frame shifting subtly as his inner wolf fought against the confines of his human skin. He could smell the bitter, sour scent of Serena’s adrenaline and the hot grease of the detonator's internal wiring. He knew he
