Third Point Of View
Somewhere in South France
A man sitting in a leather chair, behind an old massive carved wooden desk, smoking a cigar. The smoke was heavy, exhaling from his lungs, and the room filled with the smoky and sweet aroma of tobacco and spices. The space was washed in darkness, the only light coming was from his cigar. Not a sound could be heard, only the loud heartbeat of the two men standing in front of him, giving him the satisfaction of seeing their fear.
He was leaning backward in his chair, his face hidden in the dark the only thing visible was his massive hands and the expensive coffins on his suit testifying to its rich nature. He didn't light to see their terrified faces. His werewolve side helped him with that.
The grey clouds across the sky moved slowly, letti
