Anita’s POV
The room felt as though it were shrinking, suffocating me with the thick stench of deceit and venom that hung in the air. My hands clenched at my sides, trembling as a surge of uncontrollable anger coursed through me. I stared at Evelyn and Amara, their smug faces alight with satisfaction, their eyes daring me to react. My breath quickened, heat blooming beneath my skin as the rage built, relentless and fierce.
And then it happened—my vision turned red.
A guttural growl tore from my throat, shaking the walls of the room. My wolf’s roar echoed through the space, the sound reverberating like thunder. The glass on the table trembled, the wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. The curtains swayed despite the lack of wind, and the once smug expressions on Evelyn and Amara’s faces faltered, replaced by shock and fear. They exchanged a panicked glance, their bravado slipping as they slowly set their glasses down on the table.