Oriana’s POV

The packhouse rumbled beneath my feet. Blood was thick in the air. Vampire. Wolf.

A fucking massacre.

Completely preventable. I could have stopped this if my own father hadn’t incapacitated me to take me by force. My veins burned with the aftermath of the blessed blood, but now instead of pain, I was fueled by resentment.

Each digit on my hands twitched with the desire for carnage.

No one would be able to stop me. Not as I tore them apart. ...