Slowly, the coarse fur covering the werewolf’s face receded into his skin, revealing the weathered features of a man covered in old scars. His lips curled into a hideous, spiteful sneer.

  Marco turned his body, lifting his heavy boot from the small of Robert’s back. The boy lay there, limp and broken. He took a predatory step toward Hanna, his eyes hungry for blood.

  "I’m going to tear your skin from your bones, you traitor’s brat," Marco hissed, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Then I’ll ship your carcass to your mother. Don't even dream that you're walking away from death today."

  "Why?!" Hanna shrieked through her sobs.

  "Why? Hahaha! Because I hated your father!" Marco’s laughter was a jagged edge of mockery. "I’ll kill you as cruelly as possible, just like he killed my brother—all so he could run off and live with your mother!" He glanced back at Robert’s unmoving form. "Oh, and don’t worry about the fat kid. He's already dead."

  Hanna stared at Robert’s still body. Her heart shattered, the shards of her grief instantly incinerated by a sudden, cataclysmic rage.

  "How about I just crush his head right now?" Marco provoked her. Without a shred of mercy, he raised his foot and brought it down hard on Robert's blood-slicked head.

  "Please, no!"

  "You think I care?"

  "ARGHH! ERGH! ARGH! GRRR!..."

  Hanna let out a scream that tore through the air. It was no longer the sound of a human pleading for mercy; it was a primal roar that made the very walls of the alley vibrate. She stepped forward, her breath coming in heavy, jagged bursts.

  With every step she took, the asphalt beneath her feet splintered into a thousand cracks. The sickening sound of bones snapping and resetting echoed—a transformation as agonizing as it was powerful. Her clothes and shoes began to shred, unable to contain the shifting mass of her body. Her screams deepened, evolving into the guttural snarl of a predator hungry for vengeance.

  Hanna’s eyes ignited into a burning gold. Marco watched the change with a cruel smile before his own face shifted back into the bestial mask of a werewolf.

  Before Hanna could complete her transformation, Marco struck. He lunged with unnatural speed, a blur in the air, before his claws raked across Hanna’s chest.

  "Argh!"

  Hanna cried out as her skin was shredded, but she didn't retreat. In a haze of half-conscious fury, she swung her left hand with everything she had. Marco arched his back, narrowly evading the strike. But as he moved to counter, her follow-through nearly caught him in the gut, forcing him to scramble backward.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Marco looked up.

  Before his eyes, Hanna’s anatomy was warping in a horrific, rhythmic display of biology. The sound of breaking and knitting bone filled the alley. Her fingers elongated, sprouting obsidian claws that were sharp and gleaming. Her legs swelled with dense, corded muscle, tearing through the fabric of her pants.

  Hanna no longer looked like an innocent teenager. Her jaw lengthened slightly, revealing rows of overlapping, needle-sharp fangs. Her ears swept upward, and her hair billowed wildly like a lion’s mane in a storm.

  But it was her skin that truly shocked Marco. She wasn't covered in the coarse fur of their kind. Instead, thick, hard, black scales began to emerge, shielding her body like natural plate armor. The gashes on her chest throbbed for a second before sealing shut, healing completely within heartbeats.

  Hanna stood tall—an entity far more terrifying than a common werewolf. She was a hybrid that should not have existed.

  "AGRRR...!"

  A heavy, vibrating growl rumbled from her throat. Her golden eyes locked onto Marco, ready to tear him apart.

  As the morning sun cut through the narrow gap of the alley, the air grew thick and suffocating. Dust motes danced over the cracking asphalt. Without waiting another heartbeat, Marco charged. He moved with a hunter’s grace, swinging his glinting claws at Hanna, who stood her ground, fueled by pure, unadulterated rage. She didn't even flinch. She let the attack land.

  Sret! Sret!

  Marco’s lethal claws tore at her stomach and shoulders. Yet, no cry of pain followed. Hanna retaliated with a wild, feral ferocity. She swung her arms blindly, guided only by a newly awakened killer instinct.

  Marco, a veteran of a hundred battles, dodged her strikes with practiced ease. He leaped back, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. His sneer began to fade as he realized the impossible—his claws hadn't left a mark. The gashes had vanished instantly behind that impenetrable layer of scales.

  The fight escalated into a frenzied blur. Hanna launched strike after strike, but her swings caught only air. Marco danced around her, occasionally landing a blow that sounded like steel clashing against stone. He couldn't break through her miraculous defense.

  "Grrr!" Marco growled, his pride stung.

  Hanna continued her rampage, her breath a frantic hiss. She fought without reason, leaving herself wide open just for a single chance to rip out his throat.

  "ARGGGHH!"

  THUD!

  A massive kick from Marco caught Hanna squarely in the solar plexus. The impact sent her flying backward, skidding through the dust and gravel. Marco gave her no room to breathe; he pressed the advantage, launching a relentless barrage that forced her against the wall.

  Even as she was pinned against the concrete, Hanna fought back. Her golden eyes blazed under the morning sun, waiting for the moment to strike a killing blow.

  Marco realized his claws were merely scratching the surface of her scales. He shifted his strategy. As Hanna swung wildly, he dropped low, finding the gap beneath her guard.

  CRACK!

  A powerful uppercut caught Hanna under the chin, snapping her head back. Before she could find her balance, Marco followed up with a hook that slammed into her cheek.

  THUD!

  The successive blows nearly brought Hanna to her knees. She slumped against the concrete wall, dazed and struggling to remain upright. Sensing her vulnerability, Marco wasted no time. He saw the golden opportunity to end this.

  He lunged in, his jaws gaping wide to reveal rows of yellowed, razor-sharp fangs. With a violent snap, he buried them as deep as he could into Hanna’s scaled shoulder.

  "ARGHH!"

  Hanna shrieked. The sound was horrific, echoing through the narrow confines of the alley. Dark blood began to soak her shoulder, trickling down between the hard scales. Marco didn't let go; he clamped down, his fangs piercing through muscle and nerve, trying to crush her shoulder to splinters.

  Hanna, who had been attacking without direction, was now locked in agonizing pain. Her golden eyes went wide, staring directly at Marco as he tore into her flesh.