The Wolves' Snarls

Mirko stood over me, panting. Daring those he'd left Abel, the opportunity to challenge him. He looked down at me with his dark wolf eyes. His lips peeled back, exposing long, blood-stained teeth. The heat of Mirko's breath and vibrations from his ominous growls were at once exhilarating and terrifying. Don't run, I told myself. Stupid pussy. Leon was getting to his feet. Another low growl from Mirko told me that he saw my mark, understood what I'd done. They moved, in unison, toward Leon.