Roman Draven's dragon form was both majestic and terrifying. His iridescent scales gleamed beneath the morning sun like sharpened jewels while smoke curled from his nostrils.
Jericho backed away now, suddenly feeling small. Even the witches froze in the middle of the spell, their eyes widened to the size of the moon. But the most memorable expression belonged to Angus.
"How is that possible?" he demanded, utterly stunned.
No one had told him the boy could turn into a dragon. Perhaps then he would have been far more careful.
Then Roman opened his dragon eyes.
They glowed a brilliant green, the black irises vertically slitted and ancient. But above all else, they were furious.
The dragon lowered its massive head toward the wolves surrounding him and growled his vengeance. The sound alone shook the ground.
Several weaker wolves whimpered so badly some shifted back into human form entirely from fear.
