Chapter 84: I Blame You
ADRIAN’S P.O.V.
Before I completely left the forest, I lingered in the shadows, watching the wolf who had given me the best fight I’d had in years. No other wolves had ever come close to challenging me like this. He was different. Enhanced, no doubt, by the witches. I scoffed inwardly. Only a fool would trust witches. My entire existence was born from such a foolish decision. The memory hit me like a whip, and I shook my head to dispel it.
I turned to leave but paused, just for a second longer, as a deep, agonized growl echoed through the forest behind me. Typical. Wolves were so predictable. All brawn and no finesse. I didn’t need to look back to know what was happening. I could hear everything—the angry thud of his paws crushing the earth, the faint tremor in the ground caused by his elemental power, and the sharp, erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. The frustrated growl bubbling in his throat only confirmed it. He was in another fight.
"Pathetic," I muttered under my breath, stepping into the shadows. I vanished like smoke, leaving no trace behind.
The energy of my coven thrummed in the distance, a sharp hum that sliced through the stillness of the night. As I emerged from the trees, Carlos, my third in command, approached me with quiet efficiency.
"Adrian," he murmured, his voice low and steady, "should we continue to Redfield?"
A sharp smile curved my lips as I glanced back at the forest. "Hold your positions," I commanded, my tone calm but absolute. "That wolf has Teresa—and my children. Change of plans. We’re not tracking anymore. We’re following. He’ll lead us straight to her."
"What about Harry and the others?" He asked,
"They will catch up." I simply answered and he nodded in understanding. Just then, I heard a loud howl tear into the air and I smirked.
"It’s time," I announced and my coven immediately moved into action.
Wolves were creatures of habit, their lives dictated by the rhythm of their pack instincts. It was almost laughable how easily he unknowingly led us straight to his territory, his every step betraying the precise location of his pack’s home. I expected more from the legendary vigilance of werewolves—a formidable race known for their acute senses and territorial ferocity. Yet as we reached the borders of their lands, a twinge of disappointment tugged at me.