Maya
I limp after Arvin, ignoring the burning pain between my two legs. Blood is trailing down my inner thigh, and I pick up my tattered, frilly dress in a rush. I don't care if it's ruined, and without a second thought, I wipe the red liquid from my leg and then struggle to get my head through the hole of the half-massacred fabric.
"Are you coming?" Arvin asks.
I press my lips together. The fight is no longer going on outside in the ballroom. I'm assuming Arvin's pack chased out the other werewolves from their territory, which means I have to listen to this bastard if I hope to survive.
"I'm right behind you!" I chirp.
I speed up my pace, only for Arvin to smack me across the face with a haughty expression the moment I'm next to him. "Who gave you permission to speak?!"