THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW
Chapter 119 Unnatural Drakness
The rogue lunged, snarling, but Seraphina met him head–on, barefoot, blood–streaked, half–shifted, and wild. Her claws tore through his chest like paper, bones crunching under her rage. She didn’t stop to breathe. Another came, and she spun, her heel cracking against his jaw before she lunged, her teeth sinking into his throat.
Behind her, the she–wolves followed no longer trembling victims, they were savage fury given form. They pounced without hesitation, mauling the rogues with a pure fury. Their snarls echoed off the walls, not with fear, but vengeance.
The rogues faltered.
This wasn’t what they were used to. She–wolves weren’t supposed to fight back. They were supposed to whimper, beg, cry, and crawl.
But now? They were the ones crawling.
As the rogues retreated in a panic, that fear only fed the she–wolves. The taste of it thickened the air. The rush of power crackled in their limbs like lightning. They weren’t prey anymore.
Seraphina led them, ripping into rogue after r
her body slick with blood that wasn’t hers. Her wolf
howled inside her, drunk on battle. For every she–wolf that wavered, she showed them what strength looked like. For every doubt, she gave them claws.
They charged through the underground, fighting as one.
Above, on the North side of the brothel, another storm was brewing.
Asher walked through smoke and screams like a man awoken from a dream. His lips curled around a cigarette, the ember glowing orange in the dim light. She–wolves ran past him, stumbling from their rooms, barefoot and dazed, but free. Some turned to look at him, this strange man in the chaos, unbothered and smiling.
Asher relived the moment he’d seen the real Seraphina in that room and he could not stop smiling since then. “A beautiful liar,” he muttered with a low chuckle, “Should’ve known.”
The floor beneath him was soaked in alcohol thanks to him as he took one last drag and tossed it as soon as he took a turn off the hallway.
The North hall went up in flames behind him with a roar that sounded almost like laughter.
To the West, Finn was a storm given skin. His hands were bloodied from breaking open cages, his throat raw from yelling for one name, Seth. Still he could not find that desired face anywhere. Not in the holding cells. Not behind the bars where the broken she–wolves were kept.
All the she–wolves ran for their lives but Finn kept standing fuming in rage.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!” he bellowed, slamming his fist into the wall hard enough to fracture stone, “Fuck this place.”
He yanked the pin from the gas cylinder and kicked it into the heart of the west wing. Fire exploded seconds later, a deafening blast that shattered steel and stone alike. The wall collapsed inward, and the brothel groaned as if it felt pain.
The structure trembled. Dust rained from the ceilings. The foundation cracked.
On the East end, Ronan’s black wolf stood among the dead.
Smoke curled from the bodies of the burning rogues he’d slaughtered. Fire licked at the walls, painting the
Chapter 119 Unnatural Draknass
scene in red and gold. His sides heaved, muscles tense, his fur streaked with ash and blood, some his, most not.
He shifted, sweat and blood dripping down his bare chest. His violet eyes glearned through the smoke.
“Where’s that motherfucking brothel owner?” he growled, voice low and dangerous, “And that suspicious bastard with him disappeared too?”
He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“They better hurry the fuck up,” he muttered, “I’ve got my woman to be with.”
Below, Seraphina reached the ground floor.
The rogue already facing the monstrous Alphas from the Lupine Academy had barely had time to react before she was on them, feral, blinding, merciless. She tore through them like paper, clearing the path for the wave of she–wolves fighting behind her. There were no longer dozens.
There were hundreds. Every single one of them fought like they had nothing left to lose.
The brothel’s heart had become a war zone. Blood on the floor. Fire in the walls. Screams in the air.
Into the chaos walked Finn. Sanity had long since abandoned him.
His clothes were scorched, hanging in tatters. Eyes blank, devoid of reason. A gas tank swung from his hand like a toy, heavy with destruction.
He moved with purpose, ready to hurl it straight into the horde of rogues until a scent hit him.
Wild. Sweet. Electric.
He froze abruptly. His head turned, nostrils flaring. Through the smoke and fire, a flash of red appeared.
A thin, agile figure.
Long, sleek legs cut through rogues like blades. Her breasts bounced subtly behind the daring cut of her bodice, but it wasn’t the allure of her body that stunned him–it was the tiny mole just beneath her neck.
“Seth…”
A second passed. Then she flew past him like lightning.
Finn stood frozen, the gas tank still in hand, heat roaring around him.
Seraphina held her breath, slowly lifted her gaze up towards the South where that aura came from her, “Who is there?” she asked herself.
VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The True Alpha of Lupine (Seraphina and Ronan)