Chapter 42 Bloodstained Christmas

• Piper
• The metallic tang of blood lingers in the air, thick and suffocating. My hands tremble as I clutch the fabric of Elijah's shirt like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality. My chest rises and falls erratically, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I don’t know which was more terrifying: watching Elijah’s massive black wolf emerge from him in a grotesque, violent transformation or the way that same wolf shredded my ex like a piece of paper, tearing him apart with a ferocity that will haunt my dreams and Christmas forever.
• I swallow hard, my throat dry. I can’t tear my eyes away from the blood-soaked ground where Adam’s body—or what’s left of it—lays in ruin. My knees feel weak, and the world tilts slightly, but I force myself to stay upright.