Werewolf short stories
But then, from the shadows, a figure emerged—tall, robed in darkness, with cold, silver eyes that glinted in the moonlight.
Dante growled, his eyes narrowing. “Orin.”
Cole’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he looked back at the newcomer. “You didn’t think I’d come unprepared, did you?”
Orin stepped forward, his presence sending a chill down my spine. He looked at me with a twisted smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So, this is the new queen,” he said, his voice silky and dripping with malice. “You’re impressive, I’ll give you that. But you’re not ready for what’s coming.”
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