The wolf watched the tiny intruder leave the brick house and get into his truck. He didn't want to tangle with the coven that had helped kill his mother, not yet.
That group of pint-sized assholes could wait. Right now, it was all about his dear little sister. That pig had been the one that killed her—his beautiful, powerful mother had been the victim of greed and malice.
Kayla was the one who'd gotten to live with her and have all the benefits of a loving family. Why was she so fucking special? He had asked himself this question over and over throughout the years.
Mother told him that it was for his own good. He knew it had been best to trust her, but resentment had always been just below the surface. Mother had always come to visit at the full moon. She had taken him into the woods, allowing him to run and perfect his hunting skills with the rabbits and pigs she had brought for him. There were so many fond memories of his times with her.
Back when he was a teenager, they had shared a special connection. He had found out she was a powerful witch, and that he had inherited some of her magic. She told him all about how different and special he was, unlike other wolves, or even witches. He was faster and stronger than anyone else. When cut or hurt, his wounds healed within hours, sometimes even minutes.
Then, when he became an adult, his mother had told him it was time to fully explore his magic and embrace his power.
Just as his lessons had begun, this bitch had killed her. Kayla had taken away his mom, and she would pay with her life.
Darkness had just begun to take hold of the yard as the miniature troublemaker drove away. The plan was coming together. It wouldn't be long. One more night until the full moon, and he felt trouble on the way. Heading toward the garage where the pig's car was parked, he smiled an overly toothy smile and quietly hummed a tune.