Greykin Valley

| 23 | Asmodi

He pulled his fangs from the man's neck, and as he folded his new wings against his back, he looked around the camp. There was a muto in a cage not far from him...and a demon hound in another. But neither of them appealed to his hunger. He needed human blood.

And he seemed to know exactly where to find it.

Jackson let his demon take control. He burst towards the trees and followed the scent of a nearby human. His vision started shifting, and as everything became different shades of blue, he set his eyes on the red silhouette of a man up ahead. Crimson waves pulsed from the guy's body in time with his pulse, which echoed through Jackson's head. His new vision let him see the man's heart, his veins, and his nervous system, and it let him pick out the perfect place to strike before he even reached him.

He could see the human had a healing wound on his left shin; he sped up, used his wings to propel himself forward, and before the man had any idea he was coming, Jackson mercilessly plunged his right wing's carpal spike into the man's healing leg. The guy tried to yell, but Jackson slammed his hand over his mouth as he pinned him on his back, and then he sunk his fangs into his neck.

Jackson groaned in relief, downing the man's blood as fast as he could. But then he heard voices and heartbeats. He could smell more humans. The clink of chains, the groan of stretching springs, and the rumbling of an engine. He knew the rest of the hunters were nearby; they were setting their traps...and Jackson—no...the demon the inimă set free from his body was going to kill them all.

⥗ ❅ ⥖

| Damon |

This was it. His pack were closing in. The hunters were up ahead, and before he could get to Jackson, Damon had to make sure not one of them was left standing.

But before he could give Tokala's team to signal to move in, something raced through the trees a hundred yards ahead so quickly that it left a storm of kicked-up snow in its wake.

He crouched into the snow, and his pack did the same, taking cover.

"What the fuck was that?" Alastor panicked.

"Shh," Rachel hushed.

Damon searched the trees from where he lay, but he couldn't see what ran past. He could smell blood, though. A lot of blood. And people were screaming. Something was snarling. Gunfire.

What the hell was going on? Could it be Sebastien? Damon concentrated...and that was when he realized that he could feel Jackson's aura.

He wanted to get up and run to him. His instincts urged him to go, but he couldn't leave his wolves. They were in the midst of hunter territory; there could be traps anywhere. He wasn't going to run off and leave his wolves to fend for themselves or risk getting ensnared in silver.

"Alpha?" Brando asked quietly. "What are we doing?"

Damon didn't know what was out there. It could be Sebastien, or it could be something else entirely. Whatever it was, though—if it was hostile—he didn't want to risk it getting to Jackson.

He glanced at his pack. Half of them were on the other side of the hill getting ready to flank; what if they hadn't seen that thing? He scowled and tried to come up with a plan, but he had no idea what he was dealing with.

"We have an unknown entity up ahead," he told his wolves. "Treat it as if it's hostile. Watch each other's backs. We're moving in."

Everyone nodded.