I slowly got out of the car and looked around the killing field. It was only now that I noticed the dead werewolf off to the side. He did not participate in the battle. It must be Fred. He found his treacherous death. Here is the body of Trent's faithful bodyguard, indifferently abandoned by his master. And two wolves I killed. The first one barely twitched its paws, the second crawled into the safe thick of the forest on broken legs. I bypassed him.

Trying not to startle Reed, she quietly approached. He licked his uncle's wound as if he could heal him. Like then my hand. Only now, with...