The Standoff

Brenda's eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity as she motioned to her army of thug werewolves, hidden in the shadows. "Now," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as the werewolves emerged from their hiding places, their eyes fixed on Fidel and Ciara with a hungry gleam. They were a rough-looking bunch, their fur matted and dirty, their teeth yellowed and sharp.

Fidel's hackles rose as he faced the army, his own Lycan instincts on high alert. He positioned himself protectively in front of Ciara, his eyes scanning the group for any sign of weakness.

Lamar, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Brenda, stop this. You're not going to hurt anyone else."

Brenda's smile was cruel. "Oh, but I am. I'm going to hurt everyone who's ever stood in my way. And I'm going to start with you, Lamar."

With a nod, she gave the command. "Attack!"