Kirsty surveyed the carnage before her as she lit up. She flicked ash into a puddle of blood that had formed underneath one of the seven male corpses that surrounded the Scout’s hut.
Sighing, she winced at the pain between her legs, after all of them had defiled her in the past hour. The reward had more than made up for the bruising and humiliation, and her bloodlust had been sated.
She allowed herself a small chuckle at the thought of overpowering seven teenage boys on her own, but accepted it was a damn sight easier when you’re a werewolf.