W.I.L.D.
Tyler gagged but didn’t break eye contact.
He strolled down the line of his captives, the cavern echoing with the metallic scrape of his boots. Shackles clinked as the three men strained against them, their eyes burning with fury, their wolves snarling just beneath the surface.
“Look at you,” the Master drawled, his voice a velvet sneer. He stopped in front of Gunner, lifting his chin with one clawed finger. “The mighty wolf, tethered like a dog on a chain. Do you hear her, boy? The way she screams for you in the night?” His smile sharpened. “Music to my ears.”
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