★BOOK #8 in the DARK SERIES★
Lazarus Iron is a man with a code. Raised to be a killer, he perfected the art of being a predator who was feared by all who knew the Iron name. He worked hard to be the best beta for his older brother and now he must w...
People walked around the streets of New York completely unaware that the supernatural existed. Over hundreds of centuries, werewolves have wandered these lands without being discovered. They hid in plain sight as regular business employees, students, lawyers, doctors, cops and even drug dealers. And in this secret society of werewolves there's a hierarchy, and no matter where one went on this planet, a hierarchy always called for trouble. The shifter world is ruled by the strongest alphas, and their packs have been following them since beginning of their creation.
However, for this system to run smoothly, all the alphas must follow a code which was created by their ancestors. Although, the one that ruled them all, protected them all and created them, was their goddess, Maya. She was the deity that all werewolves' evil or good worshipped. If someone ever wondered why a wolf howled towards a lonesome moon? It was because that beautiful creature knew that Maya would always listen to his prayers.
All except one who never uttered a prayer in his life...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-The Night of the Massacre-
Night had arrived and everyone in the mansion knew better than to walk around the great halls at night. One only called for trouble if they ventured after hours in this house because the people that lived here never rested. The evil inside the leaders of this pack was like a radar, it was blinking and awake seeking their next victim. Hearing screams or tortured cries wasn't unusual here. Someone at any time was dying or being taught a lesson. That was the way of the Petrov pack.
Lazarus paced in his bedroom. He was the second-born son of Ivan Petrov who was the alpha of the Petrov pack and the tormentor of everyone trapped in this purgatory.
Another night would pass without Lazarus getting any sleep. This wasn't a place that one could simply close their eyes and rest. He couldn't risk it, not when the halls crawled with blood thirsty monsters. However, Lazarus wasn't like the others in this pack. He never gave the chance to feed the hunger his father seeked to torment him with. Trained to kill and hunt, Lazarus knew that he could kill his senile father any time he wished, but he never could convince himself to do it because he didn't know where he'd go. This was his home...
