AZRAEL
I pride myself in never making mistakes, in being far ahead of the enemy's plans because it's always the same.
You tend to know what they're thinking after living for so long because they always repeat the same shit over and over again. Werewolves aren't smart.
But today I made two mistakes… and one of them was letting Ottomar live for as long as he has.
The Wilderose Alpha bursts into his dark office as if he's being chased by something terrifying in the shadows, darting for his desk first.
A key tied around his neck reveals a secret compartment hidden underneath before he takes out all the documents inside.
He shivers in fear, looking around him and over his shoulders constantly, as if he knows something is coming for him.
And it is.
I wait in the cloak of darkness until I step out into the light, revealing my presence and the fact that I've been waiting for him.
"Ottomar Wilderose, first born son of Hickory Wilderose," I call out his name.
