Deangelo.

“Please,” a voice murmured, snapping my attention to the middle of the circle that had some dusts sprinkled, and in the circle was a man breathing heavily while standing with a tight chain, which was attached to the ceiling, wrapped around his neck. His fingers were digging into the metal and trying to rip it off. He huffed in exasperation.

“Can’t shift, Bryan?” I smirked.

He licked his dry lips, shifting a little, his bare feet slapping against the concrete while he extended one of his hands to me and croaks, “Please, Deangelo. Please, I am not even part of the Amato pack anymore, I am a changed wolf...