DEVON'S POV
I winced my eyes. I tolerate the pain that pulsates around me. I needed to remain strong; the fight was far from over. I couldn't defeat this many wolves all on my own, but that was okay because I didn't need to. I just needed to stall them long enough for Elder Diego to get here with reinforcements.
It wasn't the strings of my wounds that hurt me; it was Rachell's cold glare. If looks could kill, I would be long dead under the burn of her glare, like she was shooting daggers at me through her eyes. From the looks of it, she didn't even care that I had come here to save her; she was actively rooting for my downfall.
It's scary knowing she could have so much hatred for someone trying to help her. Her eyes lit up whenever Delilah or Maxim successfully landed an attack on me, the sparkle immediately dying down whenever the battle turned in my favor.