Hermosa POV

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, stepping backward, my palms slick with sweat.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be quick,” he smiled darkly, his eyes glinting in the night—enough to make me squirm.

Rapheal wasn’t just a werewolf—he was a beast with terrifying strength. Veins bulged along his arms, his pupils darkening as he approached.

The streetlight, as if in agreement with my death sentence, flickered on and off. I inhaled the damp air, clinging to one side of the ...