NOLA REYNOLDS

I gasped, sputtering until I'd managed to hack the clot of black goo out, blinking away the oily slime with a profound measure of disgust until the Lycan’s face came into view.

”Nola, Are you okay?” Hector panted, his shoulders bowing forward as the split face of Esmeralda’s Gorgon fell to the earth with a wet splat, and I saw where the Lycan had clutched one half-shifted hand to his abdomen, the claws he’d used to burst the old maiden’s head pressed into the hole where his skin was overflowing with blood.

So much red, the king was losing a lot of his essence!

It shouldn't have been...