The Alpha of Wolf Creek
“What’s the problem?”
Before the guard could reply, an earsplitting bang echoed, showering coins and money as a slot machine exploded. A stinging, burning gas filled the casino. Broccoli turned, and I lunged, grabbing his jacket, syringe poised. But a man crashed into me. The syringe flew, rolling across the carpet. Broccoli snarled, fangs bared. He lunged, claws extended. I blocked, slamming my shoulder into his stomach. We crashed into a drinks trolley.
His claws sliced through my arm as I forced him to the floor. His eyes grew round and red with bloodlust.
Bab Populer