Renard’s death

With a great leap, Carter felt his wolf lunge against his surface as he growled, “ Renard!” Before springing and shifting mid-air as he rushed towards the wolves behind whom Renard was hiding. Every bite and slash of his was filled with anger and vigour, he didn’t care about the blood that was matting his fur or the corpses he was leaving behind, his eyes were on the prize and that prize was none other than Renard’s head.

While he rushed towards Renard, the latter’s wolves tried their best to slow him down, they bit and clawed greatly affecting his movements but Carter was like an impending doom that was coming after Renard, nothing stopped him. He didn’t care about the bite on his neck, the claw mark on his hank and nor did he care about the blood that was dripping down his muzzle, all he cared about was reaching Thalia as soon as he could.

Pain and blood loss was slowing him down but Carter couldn’t care about that, not when his mate was in danger. Especially, not when this f*cker