The thin walls of the tent were no longer a shield. They were a broadcast system for the destruction of Silas’s pack.
Outside, the camp was screaming. I could hear the wet, heavy thud of bodies slamming into the frozen mud, the desperate shrieks of omega women running with their children toward the safety of the perimeter, and the gut-wrenching sound of bone snapping under the force of shifting jaws.
"Traitor!" someone screamed.
"Kill the abomination's lapdog!" another yelled.
But the symphony of violence outside was a distant hum compared to the roaring in my ears.
I was still latched onto Silas’s neck, my teeth buried deep in his flesh. The taste of his blood was a dark, rich wine that set my veins on fire. I wasn't just feeding; I was drowning in him. The void in my chest was purri
