Darren, the boy who saved her from being shred into pieces by the werewolves, walks out of the crowded row of werewolves in his mortal form. His upper body was bare, and the only thing that covers him is the thick trouser. Around his waist is the scabbard that holds his sword in place. Elizabeth couldn’t help but wonder why he even needed a sword when he could just use his claw to rip its opponent limb by limb.
“Please don’t tell me you didn’t notice the signs outside.” Darren glared. His chest raising and falling, and smoke escapes his mouth and nose as he breathes. His eyes narrowed at Elizabeth. She can’t help but break into a smile as she meets someone from her past life when she still has no knowledge of magic.
He stopped glaring and looked at her companions, and his eyes traveled
