Hailey's POV
The sun was barely rising, the first rays casting long, tired shadows over the castle's blood-stained floor. The night had been too long. Too brutal. Too unforgettable. I could still taste the bitter stench of burned fur and demon ash in the back of my throat.
My body ached. My claws were stained red. And in the middle of it all, Vickson laid unconscious in the infirmary, the cursed mark pulsing like a living wound across his chest.
I hadn't seen the masked wolf since he'd appeared like a phantom in the chaos—slashing through the demon-possessed wolves like the embodiment of vengeance. He didn't speak. He didn't breathe heavily. Just a tall, strange beast with a bone-white mask and eyes that glowed a pale, eerie blue.
He saved us… then vanished into the smoke before I could even say thank you. I have never seen a war first giant and as strong as that. I nearly began to wonder if I hadn't been hallucinating. The wolf was bigger than five regular wolves combined.
