Inhumane experiments are turning Dante Gray, a werewolf, into a monster - can he and Chase, a hot-headed warlock, find a cure before it's too late?
*****
Dante Gray, a werewolf, e...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-Chase-
I didn't know what to expect when I walked up the stairs. My heart was beating faster as I climbed. I tried to think of a way to explain to him what I'd done as smoothly as possible. Maybe he didn't mind? That bitch was the reason he was now dying, after all. Why would it bother him? I'd be happy to hear she was dead if I were him.
But... I knew this wasn't going to go like that. Dante was human. A good human.
I couldn't hear a thing when I stopped by our closed bedroom door. I just stood there for a moment, but then, I took a deep breath and opened the door. I wasn't surprised to see Dante standing next to the window instead of sleeping like he was supposed to. He was leaning against the sill with his head bowed down.
"I think you heard us talking about..." I trailed off when I realized how tense he was. He didn't move, he didn't look at me. Hell, he didn't acknowledge I existed. "Dante?"
Finally, he gave me something. He gritted his teeth, but still didn't look at me. For some reason, I was surprised to see him angry.
"So, she's dead," he finally spoke with a low voice.
"I had to do something," I said, and crossed arms over my chest. "I had to stop her then and there."
"You killed my wife."
I felt something ugly inside my stomach when he called her that.
"I killed a torturer who used our kind in her sick experiments. I did us a favor," I said, trying not to sound too cold. "I kind of regret killing her because now we don't have any leads, but she is better off dead."
"When did you do it?"
I flinched at the harshness of his voice. I suddenly had the feeling I'd need to run for my life any minute now. Surprisingly, I didn't care. What I did care about was that he was still calling that bitch his wife.
"Before we came here. She's been dead for weeks," I told him coldly.
"For weeks...? You've been keeping this secret from me for weeks?" he repeated, lifting his head up.
"You weren't supposed to know," I said truthfully, since it was obvious that I'd never planned on telling him.
He sprung around, his angry eyes landing on me. "You murdered her, and you weren't going to tell me about it?"
"Why would I have told you? You were just fine without knowing. Besides, she's the reason you're now dying, Dante, so why does it matter? She's better off dead!"
"You killed her! That fucking matters!"
"She deserved it," I retorted, getting angry because he was angry. "That bitch had to go! She ruined you! She tortured you and had the audacity to cry all over the news about wanting you back! I couldn't let her get away with it!"
