His Wingless Angel
Not with shame, but with fury.
Damascus shifted midair, landing in a clearing miles from the battlefield. He lowered Amara gently onto her feet before returning to his human form. Others were already there, Cain, bloodied but standing. Jax, limping slightly but still managing a sarcastic quip as he dropped beside a tree. The others were wounded, panting, silently gathered in a loose, shaken ring.
Amara dared not push forward in front of the group. They all watched her golden wolf. Some looked questioning as others as if something had finally clicked. Like why they were being targeted by a wolf pack.
Bab Populer