.
.
.
Thirty seconds.
That was how long it took two warriors to kill a rogue before the sound of ripping limbs apart followed.
Thirty seconds above the first ones, and the rogue would turn into shreds.
... This was by far, the bloodiest thing I've ever seen.
I tried to determine who had the upper hand but I couldn't.
The rogues were ruthless, they always attacked in groups of threes and fours. Every last one of them fought like a Beta. While the one pack had a variety of strengths, strategically placed, attacking based on pre-well-planned war tactics. Unlike rogues, werewolves were vindictive and protective of their families and lands. While my brother's soldiers fought for their survival alone, the Northwest packs fought for their loved ones.
Monica struggled the most.
