(...continued)
The room reacted to Archer's entrance like it had been struck by lightning.
Jars rattled.
Curtains fluttered.
Candles guttered violently, wax spitting onto the floor.
Archer stood in the doorway like a man barely holding on to sanity…shoulders braced, chest heaving, hands trembling with blood…with fury.
His eyes were wild.
Ferocious.
Shattered.
The witches froze where they stood, stiff as statues…because the Beta before them didn't look like a wolf anymore.
He looked like a calamity.
A storm made of grief.
A bomb seconds before detonation.
Archer's body shook ,every muscle as he marched inside, every step radiating murderous heat.
"YOU," he snarled, pointing at the witches with a shaking fist.
"You did something! You messed with my sister…YOU CAUSED THIS!"
The witches stiffened.
One of them flinched.
Another whispered a quick protective chant under her breath.
But Archer didn't stop.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
