Chapter 97 The First Pack's Guardian
The subterranean fortress towered before them, its sheer walls cracked with lines that spoke of centuries-old wars. Torches cast eerie shadows along the hallway, their dancing light like the ghosts of history. Earthy dampness and blood permeated Seraphine's nostrils, stirring instincts long dormant within her.
Ash stood beside her, rigid but unshaking. His hand rested near the blade of his dagger, his magic buzzing just below the surface of his skin. They were bounty hunters who were well-armed, their silver-plated armor catching the light of the torches. Behind them, the First Pack werewolves stalked, their eyes blazing with an unnatural sheen. And at the heart of the group, the man Seraphine had believed was dead.
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