{IRIS}
"That vampire," he said plainly, lifting a finger and pointing directly at Morgana, "dropped the soup on that human."
Could he at least use names? Even the way he spoke sounded barbaric.
Like I could complain because I knew how werewolves talk.
The air thickened.
One wrong breath.
One wrong word.
A war would break out right there in the dining hall.
"You can't possibly believe the word of a dog, Professor," Valerius said smoothly, stepping beside Morgana. His voice was silk over steel. "We both know their kind has always been eager to provoke conflict with us."
The werewolves bristled.
The growl deepened.
Both sides tensed.
The werewolves closed ranks beside the young man, low growls rumbling from their chests as skin rippled and darkened, bone pressing against flesh, fur beginning to break through.
