LORD MARCEL IS A PUPPET

{"True evil masquerades as virtue." }

"What the fuck is your name?" Dante insisted, his tone now edged with impatience.

"Why should I respond to a rude old vampire like you? "The shifter smirked.

Dante's jaw was clenched, but his eyes were fixed on the shifter, his body language telling me all I needed to know." How else should we address you? "I demanded.

The shifter's lips parted, and for a moment, the room felt like it was holding its breath. Then, with a quiet, almost deliberate drawl, he spoke. "Rolan," he said, the name falling from his lips like a challenge.

Dante didn't blink. He only nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Rolan…" He let the name linger between us, as though testing it, tasting it.

"I was meeting your father when I was captured and then the wolf which killed him. She was looking to kill Dunco and get his power. "