"He used to tear the throats out of his own pack members just to see if they were strong enough to survive," James whispered, his hand trembling slightly against my waist.
The heavy concrete floor beneath our boots vibrated with a low, bone-chilling roar that echoed straight up from the deep subterranean levels of Cole Manor. The red emergency lights flashed rhythmically, painting James's jaw in harsh, bloody shadows.
"James, we need to leave!" Marcus pleaded, pulling a heavy silver rifle from his shoulder strap with slick, bloody hands. "The blast doors in Sector Nine are completely destroyed! He is coming up the main lift shaft!"
"You can't fight him, Marcus," James said softly, stepping in front of me as the scent of old blood, iron, and ancient rot poured into the hallway. "None of
