Chapter 95. Aurion’s Bitter Welcome

Eryndor’s POV

I never imagined that the humans—Dolly, the McDonalds, and the rest—would stare at me the way they did after the fight. To me, I’d only been defending them from that rogue werewolf… or so I’d believed at the time. I fought him relentlessly, raining blow after blow down upon him until he finally surrendered. Even then, I kept punching and slashing, letting my sword carve through his pelt time after time. On my final swing, the sword snapped clean in two, its blade shivering and fracturing at the hilt.

For a moment, I thought they would cheer my victory—but instead, their cheers turned into horrified murmurs. They called me a monster. I could feel the bloodlust still pounding through my veins, as though every pore in my body exuded fury. Normally, I harness that rage when battling werewolves—especially members of the Dreadmaw Pack—using it like a sharpened tool. Yet this particular beast posed little real threat. A single, well-aimed punch would have s