Chapter 117.

DARIAN’S POV Fuck, I don’t know what’s better; the feeling of their warm flesh around my hand, the smell of their blood as it covers the floor like a red carpet, or the taste of their lives when I rip it from them and watch their souls leave their bodies. Death wasn't immediate, even when I broke their ribs apart and pulled their hearts out. There was still a moment of pain in their eyes, a light that went out, and a flicker of panic when they realized that the breath they just took was their last.  It was a power I couldn't explain in plain words. It was more than that. It was more than life- taking someone else’s. Werewolves feared Lycans for a reason, some thought it was our strength and others thought the fear began when we forced them into submission and secured ourselves on the throne. They were all wrong. The fear wasn't in our strength, it was in the way that we loved the sight of a dying enemy. Werewolves were cocky and hungry for power, they killed to gain more of it. We just