Nola Reynolds.

I cranked my eyes open when the bog remained silent and the weighty bulk of the paw on my neck went limp.

A hot jet of blood sprayed in my eye and wordlessly open mouth as the massive triangle of the orange head slid smoothly off the werewolf’s neck, bouncing hard on my midriff before tumbling to a dusty heap by the side.

“Oh my god! Hector!” I managed to choke out, my eyes widening to bright green bulbs in their sockets as I whimpered even more when the Lycans stone cold face reared above me where the orange-head’s body had once been.

“W-what are you doing here?...