The fallen warriors were still groaning in the frozen mud when Garret spat another mouthful of blood into the snow. He looked at Silas, his eyes full of a defiant, blinding hatred.
"Kill me, Silas," Garret provoked, his voice a raspy roar. "Prove to your pack that you have become the executioner of your own blood just to protect an abomination!"
Silas didn't hesitate.
In a movement so fast it was a blur of dark fur and muscle, the Alpha lunged. He didn't shift fully, but his hand transformed into a massive, clawed weapon. He struck Garret across the chest, the force of the blow sending the elder warrior crashing against the stone rim of the fire pit with a sickening crunch. Garret went limp, his chest torn open, alive but broken and bleeding heavily.
A collective gasp of horror rippled
