The bitch stood with her arms crossed and smiled at us. The tension in the air was enough to smother us. Reaching out, she gripped Damon's injured arm until the man whimpered beneath the assault, but he didn't fight back.

　　"Let him go, Clarise," I snarled. My voice wasn't the timid little wolf I had been before. Instead my dragon and wolf added to the swirling rage inside. "I want to talk to him."

　　Clarise laughed. "Let him go?" she parroted with a giggle. "Oh, ...