Chapter 23. The Hell Pride Pack

Grunts rented the air as male chests pumped with an o******* of fury and adrenaline. The men sat in groups of twos and threes, whispering among themselves. The gloominess of the atmosphere was a huge stench that muttered of an insatiable urge for blood, and its silence was an echo of impending doom.

The whispers shut down as a huge male of six feet moved into the field, flanked by three men of similar build. He walked forward to the low stool placed at the center and sat, his eyes moving over the crowd till he found whom he was looking for. His lips peeled into a scary grin, his fangs peeking out of the sides of his mouth.

His voice was a low rasp as he spoke, yet the men all kept mute, their superior ears picking up every word he uttered without stress. “I heard Avin is dead.”

Fern moved forward, his legs shaky and his eyes bloodshot from crying all day. He moved forward and fell face flat on the ground.

“Yes, my lord.” His lips trembled. “He was killed like