A Contract With An Alpha
“Failed? I led with heart, Uncle. You lead with hate. The pack will see through you… they’ll rise against this.”
A dark chuckle escaped Maximus, echoing off the walls. He released Zarek’s hair and stepped back, reaching into the shadows behind him. From a concealed holster, he drew a sleek, silver-barreled gun—loaded, no doubt, with bullets tipped in wolfsbane and silver, designed to end a shifter’s life swiftly and painfully. The weapon gleamed under the flickering torchlight, a modern intrusion in this ancient ritual of torment. He leveled it at Zarek’s chest, the barrel steady, his finger hovering over the trigger.
Bab Populer