Morgan clenched his fists and the heat that had been submerged with the flames now began to appear along with the cold temperature created by Thomas.
The Werewolf slowly recovered its strength and staggered to its feet towards Thomas who was still hugging Iris, his nails lengthening and his eyes gleaming with anger.
"Why did you come late?"
Thomas was silent for a moment, he looked up with a puffy face. "Why didn't you save hee sooner?"
Morgan pursed his lips. They were both too late to save Iris. They both failed to protect Iris. They were both involved in long regrets.
The atmosphere suddenly became quiet, Thomas pressed his lips to Iris' neck, kissing her gently.
"You dammit!" shouted Morgan suddenly, those long fingernails about to pull Thomas back toward him.
After Thomas dodged Morgan's hand, he laid Iris back on the couch and drew her silver sword. "You!"
