RIKA
The look on Spice's face when he turned around to those wolves was genuinely, deeply funny.
It was more like watching a man realize mid-fall that the ground is much further down than he thought.
His earlier bravado—all that cigarette smoke, that casual arrogance, those jabbing fingers—evaporated so fast it was almost poetic. His men fared no better. The eight guns still raised in our direction wavered as their owners took in what was beyond the shattered entrance.
Massive wolves prowled the grounds, fangs bared, amber eyes glowing with hunger for violence. Thirty of them at minimum. Every single one capable of tearing through a human body like paper.
I stayed slightly behind Damon, watching everything unfold with my arms crossed.
Damon, despite looking like he'd crawled out of
