TERESA'S P.O.V.
After another swipe at the men, the wolf shifted back into position, stepping between me and the invaders. Its massive form was a wall of muscle and bristling fur, every sinew in its body taut and ready to strike. The swish of its tail was slow, deliberate—a warning. Was it protecting us? Or was it merely laying claim to its next meal? My stomach churned at the thought, but there was no time to ponder.
One of the men lunged at it. It was too fast, a blur of movement. The wolf moved faster. Its powerful jaws snapped shut around the man's torso, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. The sickening crunch of bone and the wet sound of tearing flesh filled the room, and the man's lifeless body was tossed aside like a broken doll. The remains crashed into the cribs, shattering what was left of them into splinters.
My stomach roiled, bile rising to my throat, but I couldn't look away. I couldn't even blink.
