My wolf lunges at him, clawing at his chest, and leaving sickening scars that will forever remind him of his stupidity. The gash on his chest bleeds, staining his tan skin with blood.

Satisfaction enters my wolf when she sees his reaction. And I knew I'd never understand that mutual understanding between them.

There was no retaliation or even sign of displeasure, but Silas only flinches and coughs out blood.

Instead, he laughs.

His lips were lifted into a wide smile and his laughter fills the room.

His eyes, however, told a different story. It was pure emptiness. His laughter wasn't like melodies but satanic. He laughed like it was his last, but it was full of disbelief and false satisfaction.

Denial.

It irritated me but my wolf was more pleased than ever. And she doesn't make another move because she knew that emptiness was his worse punishment.

Wiping the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, he takes slow steps back. And I wanted so bad to attack him, but my wolf stayed still.

"Kill her," he commands his minions, looking at me with a smirk before retreating like a coward.

"I've done my job," he tells me, his expression lively, yet empty at the same time. My wolf keeps her paws locked to the floor, staring back at the pitiful man in front of us. And as if he understood her, he speaks, "To create turmoil."

My wolf keeps her red orbs trained on his back, his shoulders defeated as his figure disappears from another doorway.

"You stupid wolf," I try telling her.

As expected, there was no response but a threatening low growl.

You know what's funny?

Silas destroyed himself before we even had the chance to.

He never wanted to win in the first place.

The man wanted to feel pain, but he all he felt was emptiness, void of emotions. Because that's all what beasts crave: the ability to feel.

When a person void of emotions or thoughts and no longer have a goal to meet, they lose their life's purpose—they have no more reason to live. And to them, it's better to lose your life than to live it.

And sadly, cowards like Silas are better dead than living.

A wolf's growl disrupts me from my thanking and I immediately divert my attention to the small group of wolves surrounding me.

The rogue didn't get another opportunity to let out a second growl before my wolf jumps for his neck and tears his flesh without an ounce of remorse.

The next wolf was even more stupid. She leaps towards me, where my wolf could easily claw her belly and rip her stomach apart. And so she did.

Another tries to attack me from behind while another also lunges and aims for my side. A kick and hungry bite to the neck was all it took to finish their lives.

I stare back at the motionless bodies of weak wolves, blood pooling beneath them and staining their fur.

The last wolf circles around me menacingly, contemplating my next movement. He was playing it safe, refusing to make a risky move.

Too bad I wasn't in a mood for this time consuming bullshit. My wolf takes advantage of his hesitation and pounces on him, knocking his body to the ground in the process.

He struggles under her hold frantically, but soon his panic was terminated the moment my wolf bites into his flesh and slits his throat. Blood gushes out of his wound and paints my skin.

My wolf lets out a barely recognizable huff before trotting to Ian like he was a prey. He covers my way out of this shithole, just like mother did. And he just watches me, his lips in a tight line and his eyes staring right at me without showing any emotions.

My wolf threateningly marches towards Ian, her steps slow and careful.

A part of me wanted him to keep blocking my way so that I could pull apart his limbs and feed his body to the vultures. But another part of me was also curious. I was eager to see whether he's the exact replica of my mother or a slightly better version of that witch.

So my wolf gives him a chance to choose.

She moves towards him, granting him the time to think as we close the distance that separates us.

And just when I thought I had the liberty of killing him, he takes a step back and moves to the side, leaving space for me to leave. I refused to look back up at him, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

My wolf sprints out, happy to be free and out of four walls.

I don't look back as I move past him and out of the this shithole. I don't spare any energy to scan his face. So I keep on going, his voice the last I hope I'll ever hear from him.

"Happy birthday."

My wolf rushes out of the confines, past unfamiliar hallways, but somehow finding our way out.

Crashing the doors open, cold air hits us. The horrible, yet satisfying stench of blood fills my senses. The sight of flesh being ripped open and limbs being pulled apart reaches my eyesight.

I could feel my wolf's growing satisfaction, pleased to see blood being drawn.

It takes less than a second for her to bounce into action and ramming into a rogue, clawing at her throat right after. Fortunately for her, her life ended before more pain consumes her.

"Alex," a desperate voice reaches out to me.

"I'm fine," I tell Theo sternly, my wolf eager to kill rather than talk.

I hear a whimper to my right. My wolf turns to the sound and eyes as a young pack member struggles to release himself from a rogue's grip.

I almost panic, scared that my wolf wouldn't feel any remorse and let my people die. But I was amazed when she lunges towards the rogue without any hesitation. He lets go of his hold and stumbles due to the impact.

He snarls at me, showing off his canines in a ineffective "intimidating" snarl. My wolf stops him, biting into his hind leg and ripping his limb apart.

She spares the youngling we just saved with an irritated glare, but the boy ignores it and bows slightly.

And the rest of the time continues like that: helping and killing.

I don't know how long this bloodshed lasted, but frankly, neither my wolf and I couldn't care less. We were busy having fun with slaughtering these foolish wolves that tried to attack me. Of course, their attempts were all futile and my wolf would just move on to another merciless kill.

I was filled with a murderous passion and I willingly let it consume me.

The sound of growls and howls surrounded me but all my wolf could recognize was her burning hunger. Bodies drop to the wet earth, their hearts no longer pulsing. No words were spoken except for the snarls and whimpers, the desire for more and more blood devouring our consciousness, and letting our wolves take the control. The sound of war and death made my wolf disgustingly content.

And then it stopped.

The growling ceased, only to be replaced by painful howling as the rogues drop to their knees one by one. Some screamed in an agonizing way all werewolves knew to well.

The loss and betrayal of a King.

As if getting the message, my pack shifts back into their human forms and puts on clothes they have scavenged.

My wolf doesn't shift and I could feel her anger through our barely existing bond. She was outraged that the King has given up so quickly and now, she didn't have an excuse to keep on killing.

The lack of movement was disrupted by a woman who rose up from her knees and charged at Theo, who kept his eyes trained on her with pity. The last thing I saw was her tear stricken face before it was replaced by contorted pain before she drops to the ground, a hole replacing her once beating heart.

My wolf took this as memo to keep on a killing spree.

But just as she was about to severe someone's limbs, Theo running back to the old castle catches our attention.

We follow right after but not before we kill the rogue in our hands. His eyes roll back to the back of his head as he drops to the ground, his skull shattered.

My wolf races to the castle, treading behind Theo, who hurried to God who knows where. We follow him as he runs to one hallway to another like he knew exactly where he was going. He didn't look back at us but I knew that he could sense our presence.

Our footsteps end when a half-open doorway reaches our eyesight, sobs sounding out of the room.

Familiar sobs.

Ian.

That's kinda funny.

The last thing I see is Ian weeping, a necklace wrapped around his clenched fists. I couldn't think hard enough to recognize where that familiar pendant came from.

Whatever, it's none of my business.

I didn't know if I should laugh at him or cry with him.

Either way, I didn't have a chance to respond before Theo turns to me, finally acknowledging by wonderful presence. He squats down so that he meets my wolf's eyes.

My heart shatters when I see his lips tremble and his eyes fill with unshed tears. Confusion and a pang of despair strikes me. Noticing our mate's grief she rubs her head under Theo's chin, who begins to rub our fur.

"Cara's gone," he tells me under his breath, his breathing labored and shallow.

"It's okay to cry," I tell him through the mind link, recalling his words. "You lost a sister."

Hugging my wolf and burying his head in our fur, he tells me quietly, "How can I lose a sister I never had?"