How you taste

Third Person POV.

Marcel trailed down the stairs, fixing the ropes of his gra-colored robe. He had gotten a message from one of his servants that Yato had come around.

Since being back in Oakdale town, Marcel had occupied himself with building a small army and trustees that could help him in winning over his cousin's brother, and the fucking Slayers.

Secluded in a mansion in the middle of the clearing on the outskirts of the town, Marcel equipped himself and strategized for the day he’d strike with his warriors.

Marcel and Logan were always at loggerheads with each other back when Oakdale belonged to the werewolves.

Just like his father had wanted to become the pack’s alpha, Marcel had longed for that seat too. He wanted what Logan had. The power, respect, money, and looks.

Marcel fought Logan silently, hoping Logan would fail so he could take over. Unfortunately for him, Logan always did come out smarter.

But all that happened centuries ago. Now, Marcel had gotten Logan out of