CAINE
Where the fuck is she?
Fenris has already done his job. Bodies litter the ground in various states of conscious or unconscious, bleeding and broken, but generously kept alive. For now.
My wolf stands by them, no longer oversized, his ethereal blue glow brighter than usual. He appears calm at first glance, but the erratic snarling in the back of my head says otherwise.
He's as crazed as I am.
Grace isn't here.
Andrew staggers to his feet with my arrival, covered in dirt and blood, both his and not. He's alive, breathing, and here. But she isn't.
My hand closes around his throat before I register moving. I lift him off the ground with a growl. "Where is Grace?"
To his credit, the beta doesn't struggle against my grip, even as his windpipe compresses.
"Gone," he rasps. "One second she was there. Next—"
"Gone?" The word comes out more animal than human. "You let her disappear right in front of you?"
