Chapter 12 Wolfsbane.

Rosaline’s POV:

Finished

The moment the scent hit my nose, Freya surged forward, taking control of my body. I transformed into a wolf instantly.

In the corner of the warehouse were several crates I was supposed to organize, and the strong stench of wolfshane was wafting from them.

“Danger.” Freya growled, her instincts on high alert.

Suddenly, the warehouse lights went out. Freya immediately took a few steps back, her eyes scanning the darkened space. her hackles raised. I could feel the tension in her body as we moved together, one soul in

two forms.

Freya stepped carefully toward the door and brushed her tail against it.

The heavy door was locked

“Can you open it?” I asked anxiously.

Freya swiped at the door with her claws, but the heavy metal just screeched under the force, leaving only deep scratches behind.

The door was locked from the outside, and there was no way to apply pressure from the inside. Even Freya, with her strength, couldn’t break through it.

“D“mn it, this door isn’t just for keeping people out. It’s meant to keep wolves in.”

be a window or a ventilation

reason my parents died. They were injured

night was eerily similar to the situation I found myself in now. The surroundings were pitch black, and the air was thick with the nauseating scent of wolfsbane. The toxic

with all her might, but halfway through the

it, there were more wolfsbane traps

her strength slowly

my Alpha energy, sending it to her, reinforcing her will.

looked up at the dark ceiling with frustration in her eyes.

“Why is there wolfsbane in Eclipse Pack’s warehouse?

a thing can harm werewolves, but it can also be used

1/2

Thu, 13 Mar

Chapter 12 Wolfsbane

going to rip

81%%

Firashed

and with her large

myself to stay conscious, pulling out my phone with trembling hands. My vision was already blurring from the poison’s

focus.

black after I sent my

Caden’s POV:

11 o’clock, and Rosaline still isn’t back. Who knows where she’s off to now….

thirsty and went downstairs to grab a drink of

from a bumpkin. She doesn’t know any better. If she were raised properly, she wouldn’t be out this late.

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