Aitana’s POV
Blood.
So much blood.
It coated my hands and arms, dripping onto the forest floor in thick, crimson ribbons. The scent of it—metallic and sharp—filled my nose, choking me.
I looked ahead and saw three wolves fighting.
Sebastian, Tristan, and the rogue.
The massive black and red wolf was trying to snap the rogue's neck, but no matter how deep Sebastian's claws sank into him, no matter how many times his fangs ripped through his flesh, the rogue always slipped away.
I saw a malicious smile forming on his lips, his violet eyes glowed with unnatural malice as he stared at me.
I was there, but also wasn't. I could watch the fight, but that was all.
Tristan lunged at the rogue, but his force was not enough. They couldn't defeat him; the rogue was ready for everything.
