I don't know what was more scary. Having a knife to my throat or seeing Riverdale mid-shift.
His face was ten times scarier than his usual cold brooding expression. Dark green lines spread downward from his eyelids like a spider web. Every part of his eyes flooded red with his iris pitch-black.
My heart hammered in my chest, it felt tight and constrained, and and breathing became a chore.
This wasn't how werewolves looked. Riverdale wasn't normal.
He grabbed the two men by their necks and dragged them up the wall, choking and pressing them against the wall like they were made of paper.
These huge, burly men shivered at the sight of Riverdale. Who wouldn't? He looked like the devil.
Their feet dangled a funny sight despite the deadly situation.
"Who sent you?" his voice was dangerous
