Chapter 12
Lycanthrope's Loyalty
Grimm and his pack, their honor restored and their lives on the line, fight alongside Bishop. The unlikely alliance, forged in mutual necessity, proves devastatingly effective. Werewolves and hunter move in a brutal synergy, turning the tide against the human conspirators who sought to exploit them. The ferocity of the pack, combined with Bishop’s holy wrath, overwhelms the enemy, demonstrating that true loyalty can be found in the most unexpected of places, even among those society deems monstrous.
The stench of burnt hair and something vaguely metallic, like old blood, clung to Bishop’s tongue. He spat, the sound a wet thwack against the damp earth. Around him, the night was a symphony of snapping bones and guttural snarls, a sound that usually made his cock twitch with anticipation, but tonight… tonight was different. Tonight, the snarls were on his side.
Grimm, a hulking silhouette against the flickering torchlight, let out a roar that vibrated in Bishop’s teeth. It wasn’t a sound of pure rage, not entirely. There was a possessiveness in it, a territorial fury that felt… familiar. Bishop, his Soul Sun blade humming with a righteous heat that could peel the skin from a demon’s hide, parried a wild swing from a cloaked figure. The blade met steel, sparks showering the muddy ground.
“They’re trying to herd us,” Grimm growled, his voice a low rumble that somehow carried over the din of battle. He ripped a man’s arm from its socket with a sickening crunch. “The ones in the village. They wanted the blame on us.”
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