Chapter 82: Trapped in Despair
TERESA’S P.O.V.
After another swipe at the men, the wolf shifted back into position, stepping between me and the invaders. Its massive form was a wall of muscle and bristling fur, every sinew in its body taut and ready to strike. The swish of its tail was slow, deliberate—a warning. Was it protecting us? Or was it merely laying claim to its next meal? My stomach churned at the thought, but there was no time to ponder.
One of the men lunged at it. It was too fast, a blur of movement. The wolf moved faster. Its powerful jaws snapped shut around the man’s torso, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. The sickening crunch of bone and the wet sound of tearing flesh filled the room, and the man’s lifeless body was tossed aside like a broken doll. The remains crashed into the cribs, shattering what was left of them into splinters.
My stomach roiled, bile rising to my throat, but I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even blink.
And then it got worse.
More wolves burst into the room, their howls splitting the air like war cries. They came from every direction, tearing through the remaining walls as though they were paper. The room descended into chaos—a blur of fur, fangs, and blood. The intruders fought back fiercely, their weapons glowing with an unnatural light. Some wielded swords that crackled with energy, while others muttered incantations under their breath. Waves of shimmering magic exploded through the air, creating ripples that distorted everything around them.
Magic. That’s what this was.
I pressed myself into the farthest corner I could find, clutching Ollie in one arm and Mai in the other. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything over it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the cries of my children and the deafening sounds of battle. I so much wanted to run, to hide, to disappear—but just like the last few minutes, there was still nowhere to go.
The wolves were relentless. Their snarls were like rolling thunder as they tore through the intruders with brutal efficiency. Bodies piled up around us, the floor slick with blood. The violence was overwhelming, suffocating. I couldn’t shield my babies from it. I couldn’t even shield myself.
Then, as the last of the intruders fell, the man in the silver robe remained. He stood amidst the carnage, calm and composed, as though the slaughter around him was nothing more than an inconvenience.
And then he turned to me.