And then, through the haze of battle, I saw her—Anna’s wolf, sleek and deadly, her fur dark as midnight, her movements precise and ruthless. She was locked in a fight with her cousin, a vicious snarl on her face as she went straight for the kill, her eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
A fierce protectiveness surged within me, mixing with the rage and desperation already boiling in my veins. I gripped the gun tighter, my heart racing as I realised that the fight had become personal, the stakes reaching a level that no longer allowed for hesitation.
I was beyond exhausted, worn down by the endless bloodshed and horror surrounding us. This had to end, and it had to end now. Lifting my gun, I steadied my aim on Anna’s wolf, feeling the weight of each heartbeat as I waited for the perfect shot.
