Chapter 88

• Tiberius's pov.
• The forest was alive with death. The scent of blood and burnt fur hung thick in the air as I stepped over yet another twisted corpse of a hybrid. My breathing was harsh, labored, and my arms burned from the relentless slaughter. I gripped my flaming blade tighter and scanned the dense, fog-shrouded trees.
• Victor staggered up beside me, wiping blood from his brow. "Tiberius, I think we’ve fucking killed enough of them for three lifetimes. Where the hell are they all coming from? I refuse to believe every single one of them has Freya’s blood. She’d be fucking dead by now, drained to nothing. There’s something we’re missing."