When Adam bit into his already dead enemy once more, Monica tried to swallow, but her mouth was as dry as a desert. Her legs started pulling her forward, forgetting all about she had gone through. Forgetting about her pain. It was nonexistent. Nothing else mattered but the crazed man in front of her and the doubt whether his heart was still intact.

“Adam...” she called out when she reached him half-way. The wolf looked completely wild, his caramel fur was splattered with blood, bent over the already destroyed corpse. But... This was him, it had to be. She couldn't just mistake him for any other beast. It was the...