The scene was too quiet, despite the pounding hearts of the people. The Darius Walker walking in front of them right now was not the same kind and caring pack mother that they had. It was as if they were looking at the Abyssal King—or the person that had already fallen into the spell of the Abyssal King. Not only the dragons and goblins, but even the wolves stepped back in terror.
Perhaps the only one who didn't fear him was his mate. Nicholai looked up at the reddish smoke that was oozing from his mate and at the symbol that was vaguely being drawn in the air. There was only a shard, but it was strong enough to remember what the crest looked like. He then sauntered toward the downed dragon as if he was uninjured. "Should I tear his wing off for you, Darius, love?"
