Marcus's eyes never left Knife; his entire body was tense, ready to protect Alina at any cost. The rest of the pack stood frozen, their gazes locked on the terrifying figure of Knife and the dark witch at his side, Wanda.
He moved with a kind of superior aura, a dark smile playing on his face. Wanda, who stood by his side—with her signature white hair and burning red eyes—loomed like death itself, her presence dark, scary, and gloomy.
Marcus cracked his neck and frowned. He wasn't about to let some psycho scare him. Not in his own territory.
Knife's smile widened, catching the barest flicker of Marcus's fearlessness. "Ah, little boy, you must be Marcus," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "I've heard so much about you. Though, if I'm honest, I expected… more." His gaze flickered over Marcus's body, then around at the pack. "What a disappointing welcome party."
