Seraphine’s POV
In the dimly lit room, a scene of utter chaos unraveled as Lucian grappled with one of his own werewolves, a fierce clash between hunter and hunted. It was as if the very room itself held its collective breath, with nothing but the muffled grunts and the shuffling of bodies on the floor breaking the eerie silence.
“Quentin, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Lucian’s voice, tinged with desperation and frustration, burst forth from his lips, though it was now his enemy’s voice that spoke, as he fought for control.
Quentin froze momentarily, his rugged features contorting with an unexpected flicker of surprise. His lips curled into a snarl as he retorted, “How do you know my name, you blood-sucking creature?”
His hand shot for Lucian’s neck, his muscular fingers
