Third POV
“Alpha Nivaan?” Marx’s voice sounded as he entered the dark room. He instinctively flicked on the switch. A soft white glow spread over the room illuminating the chaotic mess.
A gasp escaped Marx’s lips as his eyes swept over the room. The furniture was lying helter-skelter; the shattered remains of a vase were scattered on the floor; the food on the table was untouched and crunched glass had a few blotches of blood on them. What exactly happened here?
A large dent on the wall caught his attention. He drew closer and ran his fingers along the edge of the dent. It looked like someone had punched the wall repeatedly. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed more blood staining the wall.
He rubbed some of the red liquid close to his nose. His heart sank as the scent confirmed his suspicion. What had upset Alpha Nivaan so much?