The red moon dipped below the horizon, its malevolent glow fading into the predawn darkness. Ethan, his body reverting to its human form, stood amidst the aftermath of his werewolf rampage. His hands trembled as he surveyed the scene, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon his shoulders. Blood stained the earth, a grim testament to the beastly deeds he committed in his primal state. Among the fallen guards, lifeless and still, Ethan saw the faces of men he had slaughtered, their accusing gazes haunting him.
As the first rays of morning light painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Isabella hurried to Ethan's side, her maternal instinct driving her to shield her son's nakedness from prying eyes, in this case, Mara's eyes, she looked at his naked body whilst covering up her own nakedness. Isabella's touch, though gentle, felt like a branding iron against his skin, searing him with the reality of his actions.
