Trapped In Beastly Desires

The room quietened. The vampires dropped, yet everyone still squared up vigilantly, prepared for even the most sudden attack. Before their eyes, the throne chair turned its back to them and slowly turned again. Marcus appeared sitting on it with his hands on the armrest. His puckered brow emanated pure rage and vengeance. The sight of him only had everyone getting even more prepared. Marcus worked his eyes around for a while.

“My empire. My soldiers. Everything that I spent every century of my life building, has crumbled before my eyes,” Marcus said. His tone was placid but pressured by existing rage. “Words can never express how angry I have become. But actions can.”

The moment his chair turned, deep growls apart from the wolves’ resonated in the room. Not aware of where it came from, they looked around. Screeching, hisses, growls, and snarls clouded the atmosphere. It took a while before they grabbed the situation. The dead vampires were awakening again. The ones without complete bo