The Nineteenth Chapter

Ever since Cyrill was turned into werewolf, there is not a single minute that his Pasiphae abilities will not yearn to be unleashed.

But now…now is the perfect time to completely release his mighty powers. There is no turning back.

No. Not this time. He will not be cowered by these three Death Summoners’ mere presence. His indomitable godly presence will not be turned down by these shitty black-cloaked people.

He is Cyrill Clarke. The beta of the Irish Pack and a Pasiphae werewolf.

And he will not step back.

***

In a heartbeat, the Death Summoners released some black smoke into the frigid air. It was so dark that even Hemera’s solarian powers cannot contend with their wholly dark abilities.

The one on the right threw a ball of plasma towards them. But, someone halted it in mid-air.

It was Rozelyn.

Rozelyn knocked out the other two with an invisible force in just a wave of her hand, throwing the two dark-clothed figures in the azure wall.