Third Person's POV
The Western Tribes' werewolves were overwhelming, but Velda fought fiercely.
Her arms underwent wolf-shift, wolf hair-covered claws tore through leather wrist guards and elongated. Ten glinting nails left frosty trails in the air.
Her vertical pupils shrank to arctic-crevice slits. A horizontal s***h of her left claw shattered three warriors' shields.
Glancing around, she saw more Western Tribes' wolves surging like a tide.
These wolves hadn't joined the earlier battle but had lain in wait for her.
It was then that she realized she'd fallen into a trap, the same kind she'd used before to gain the upper hand.
Her wolf snarled wearily in her mind.
Velda and Brock were strong fighters, but her team couldn't hold out against the Western Tribes' relentless assault.
E
