Sixty-One

Cleo’s POV

The explosion in the pack house was like a beacon calling my name. The anger, the fear, and the smell of death excited me. With each death came a vibrant soul, so I knew the world I ruled would flourish with the new arrivals. It was one of the awful yet understood needs of hell.

Standing in the center of the courtyard, I watched Moonlight Pack members flee from their homes with their families. Roman had once mentioned tunnels hidden under the older homes, making me wonder if that was where they hoped to make their escapes. Things were in complete and utter chaos, and again the men in charge were to blame.

Before I could step, a loud yet deep voice called my name, catching my attention. Elder Johnathan stood there, his fists balled at his side with a long metal blade strapped to his waist. His face was stern and void of emotion, something that didn’t change as his lips curled up in a snarl. Though no matter how intimidating he tried to be, I could smell his fear radiating th