The first gunshot shattered the silence.
A silver bullet tore through the night. One of the Shadowfang wolves barely turned in time. The bullet ripped through his shoulder instead of his heart. He crashed into the ground with a painful growl.
“Hunters!” another wolf shouted.
From the tree line, men and women in dark combat gear stepped into the open. Rifles. Silver blades. Crossbows. At the front stood an older man with streaks of gray in his hair. He lowered his rifle.
“For generations,” he said, “the Blackthorn family has hunted these monsters living among us. And tonight… we finish another hunt.”
“Fire!”
More shots exploded through the forest. The Shadowfang wolves scattered. Several shifted halfway, growing claws and fangs as they charged. Silver bullets flew from one side. Growl
