Alaric Wood smiled faintly, blood on the corner of his mouth.
He wiped his lips clean, a wicked smile playing at the edge of his lips, eyes gleaming with a sense of victory, "The taste is really quite nice."
The air pressure grew increasingly colder.
Aurelia Shaw raised a hand, aiming a punch at Alaric Wood's face.
A figure struck Alaric's face before she could. Mason Nightshade's gaze was deep, eyes swirling with murderous intent, as he grabbed Alaric's collar, gripping his neck, fingers tightening, veins bulging across his hand.
Aurelia had never seen Mason so furious before.
Alaric's face turned purple, his hands clutching Mason's arm, vision blurring, breath becoming more difficult.
Just then, a woman's voice suddenly rang out: "Let him go!"
Vaila Mook staggered out, her lab coat charred, her face blackened—she had clearly barely escaped the fire.
Mason didn't even glance at Vaila, his fingers tightening with a clear intent to take Alaric's life.
