CHAPTER 163
Marcus didn't hesitate. He moved with the sudden, speed that only a vampire of his age possessed, his hand reaching out to seize the scruff of the chocolate wolf's neck.
He intended to kill the creature there and then but his fingers never made contact. The sound of snapping branches erupted from the thicket behind them—not one source, but three.
Four massive wolves, their coats ranging from sandy grey to a deep, charcoal black, burst through the foliage.
They didn't skid to a halt; they slammed into the clearing, their snarls tearing through the quiet of the eastern woods.
"Wolves" Marcus hissed, his body pivoting instantly. He abandoned the attempt to grab Alaric, instead dropping into crouch in front of Clara.
His copper hair seemed to glow under the moonlight, and his eyes bled a deeper, more violent shade of red.
