{Isla’s POV} Blood was still spilling from the body whose head I literally just squeezed to a snap and everyone was still staring at me, staring at me and the evidence of my brutality. None of them expected me to be this savage. I didn’t too. I couldn’t understand what had come over me, what had possessed me, ‘cause I knew I wasn’t going to snap off her neck. But I did. Cayden was still standing before me so by default, my eyes were still on him, and slowly I watched his hint of surprise melt into a sharp smirk. Why was he smirking? He answered my mental question. “Looks like you’re not as weak as I thought.” He said, still housing the smirk. He was praising me? For acting beastly? I motioned to reply to him but I reminded myself of the prominent issue at hand. I swiveled to face the warriors. “Everyone, settle and rest for the evening. Our search continues at dawn. All Generals, follow me.” I voiced and started towards a corner where the bushes seemed thicker. Will it be w

{Isla’s POV} So, three problems! Problems that could put us on the other end of Victory if we weren’t careful. Everyone was waiting for me now. Waiting for me to order the attack on the enemies we so desperately abhorred. I scanned the area. It was more coordinated than I expected a Rogue camp to be. I mean, these guys were lawless malefactors who didn’t fancy societal dictations. Yet, here they were acting civil. Something about everything wasn’t right— I inched my gaze to a side and saw some Rogues smoking in a tent and two others smashing at a corner. Rogue behavior. —Or maybe I’m just overreacting. I gestured for the numbers on my left to make a small arc around the camp and told the ones on my right to do the same. It was time to surprise them. Once we were in position, I instructed that we begin sneaking through the grasses. Everything Combat classes had taught me, everything my Dad had imbibed in me, guided my every action as I led our army into the enemies' keep. The

{Isla’s POV} My gaze was now on the Rogue whose arm I had ripped off. He laid lifeless on the ground. He had bled to his death in a two way system. But before that, he had scourged me with pain and broken me with his remarkable strength. What was he? Praised brothers. What were they made of? They definitely weren’t normal Werewolves. There was something else at play here than the traditional werewolf energy. And the amazing part was that someone had spoken of this occurrence. Ralph. Ralph had given his theory of the improved Rogue ability. That day at GrayHill, he had seen something out of the ordinary while I had been too busy saving a Cunt’s mother. And he told us about his observance but it had been too strange to believe. Too abnormal to comprehend. But today, the strangest of things happened and there was nothing normal about those Rogues, those ‘Praised Brothers’. “We need to return to the Palace immediately!” I voiced with weariness in my voice before tight fingers wrapp

{Isla’s POV} My mum was leaning against my Dad’s silver gilded wooden throne and she was weeping bitterly. There was no denying it. I could see it so it was believable. She was actually crying. But my Dad… dead? “No!” I roared, sending vibrations running around the room. “Mum!” I gripped her even tighter and she winced in pain but she didn’t stop me. She was too busy pouring out emotions that pain didn’t matter to her. But her behavior infuriated me even more. “I ask you again! Where. Is. Dad?!” I bawled, pouring a mixture of glares and tears on her. She didn’t answer. She still had her eyes squeezed, still sniveling, and I was about to explode with emotions when I saw her hand rise. It slowly stretched and began shifting along its axis. I followed the movement until it landed at a point. She was pointing. She was aiming at an area some distance away and she wasn’t even looking. I gazed back at her and she still didn’t spare me a look. I slowly rose to my feet and began

{Cayden’s POV} Some parts of the Palace were in shambles and from what everyone has been saying, it was attacked. Attacked by a horde of Rogues who the survivors described as ruthless and beastly. We had encountered “ruthless” and “beastly” over in the jungle so it only made sense that the same force had attacked the Palace. Praised brothers they were called. Wretches! They had really caused so much damage— both emotionally, as everyone was visibly traumatized, and physically as fallen pillars decorated everywhere. And we both know that pillars hold stuff. But none of the Rogues' damages could be compared to the one caused by the screeching from yesterday. The loudness of that cry had threatened the very foundation of the Palace grounds and caused everyone to tremble. It had been too powerful to be from a Werewolf… but then again it was. It was from Isla. Apparently, it was one of those her outbursts moment and I had been rushing to the scene only to be chased back by cru