Third Person's POV
Solanke's claws dug into the mark on Velda's nape, his pheromones laced with cold wind as they invaded her torn glands.
Velda screamed, a whine like a cub's escaping her throat, "No, stay back! Don't touch my mark!"
Solanke crouched and sliced through her bonds.
Seeing her shrink in fear, his rage intensified.
The heir of the Western Tribes' Lycan King had been humiliated by this cowardly wretch.
"Do you even deserve a mark?" Solanke's pupils slit blood-red in the moonlight. His wolf claws tore her leather armor embroidered with the Bloodmoon totem. "You had his glands ripped out when he was captured!"
He dragged the trembling she-wolf outside by her hair.
The cold and scalp pain brought tears to her eyes.
Once outside, Solanke spun her by her hair and threw her
