THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW
The rogue lunged, snarling, but Seraphina met him head-on, barefoot, blood-streaked, half-shifted, and wild. Her claws tore through his chest like paper, bones crunching under her rage. She didn’t stop to breathe. Another came, and she spun, her heel cracking against his jaw before she lunged, her teeth sinking into his throat.
Behind her, the she-wolves followed no longer trembling victims, they were savage fury given form. They pounced without hesitation, mauling the rogues with a pure fury. Their snarls echoed off the walls, not with fear, but vengeance.
The rogues faltered.
This wasn’t what they were used to. She-wolves weren’t supposed to fight back. They were supposed to whimper, beg, cry, and crawl.
But now? They were the ones crawling.
As the rogues
