The werewolves had lost a few hundred wolves during their fight with the undead horde over the last thirty minutes; however, they'd also done devastating damage to their enemies, reducing their numbers to significantly lower portions. They were pretty confident in their chances of victory until the entrance to the Red Moon coven fortress was pulled open by Garrett.
He stood aside as his comrades filed out like spectres of vengeance, their eyes glowing with the promise of fury. They held staves or knives that pulsed with volatile enchantments as they rushed out. Magic hissed around their bodies, drawn from the charged atmosphere that still trembled beneath the Red Moon's gaze.
