“one of the women gasps, eyes filled with horror. “Is that you?”
I crook my neck and stare at her. There’s no Grubbs here. Werewolves don’t need names. Tags like that are a human weakness.
I think about killing her for daring to address me that way.
“Grubbs?” she says again, taking a hesitant step towards me.
A werewolf howls, warning her off. I roar at it angrily — I can protect myself. It lowers its head and whines. I fix my eyes on the woman. My stomach rumbles. The blood of the previous leader is like honey on my lips. But how much sweeter would the blood of a soft human be?
“Meera!” the other woman snaps. “Don’t get too close. He might —”
“Grubbs won’t hurt me,” the one called Meera says confidently.
I snarl at her arrogance and raise a claw to rip off her face. No one has the right to make decisions for me.
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