Chapter 95

• When we got to the house, we halted, exchanging looks. The building was similar to the prisons back home. Whoever erected the structure might either be a psycho or missing home. But Kendera didn't fall under any of them. He was just a bitter werewolf, fuelled by his desire to seek revenge for his father's death.
• Fred took the lead, and I followed close behind him, looking back, as we walked deeper into the house. The hall was dimly lit, but we could still make our way through it as if there were a bulb overhead.
• We followed the pungent smell of Durian and got to the room. Fred kicked the door open, and I stepped in, my gaze landing on the motionless body on the floor.