From somewhere behind us, my mother shouts for me to stop, but I don’t pay her any attention. My father won’t get away with this.
“You have thirty seconds to come clean, father, before you have to answer to my wolf. He won’t be so lenient.”
“I’m more afraid of him than I am of you, son,” my father huffs, coughing up more blood.
“Wrong answer,” Zev growls. The tingle in my fingertips as my claws grow through my human skin has me snarling louder as Zev takes over. “You no longer get to call us son, and you should fear me more because right now, your life is in my hands.”
The fear in my father’s eyes shines bright as Zev leans in and wraps claw-tipped fingers around his neck. They pierce his skin, little rivers of blood dripping from each of the holes as my father gasps.
I can’t find
