Andreas had chased after where Saint’s pack told him the attackers had gone. He stopped when he found them. One was an alpha, the other three were beta males. The way they were talking, he really wasn’t sure if they were trying to drive him off or bait him. It hardly mattered.<br/><br/>“Indeed, normally a demon has no business in wolf territory,” Andreas said, glaring daggers at the wolves. “But I happen to be close friends with the alpha of that pack,” dangerous fangs were showing through his guise now, “So I’m<span style="font-style: italic">making</span>it my business.” Andreas was<span style="font-style: italic">very</span>pissed off, and in this situation he had no reason to hold back. His form started to stretch and shift, each second looking less and less human. When it was done, he’d grown to eight feet tall, with broad, muscular shoulders. His fingers ended in deadly silver claws each as wide around as Asalia’s wrists. His arms were disproportionately long, so the claws raked the ground, and his flat, bony feet ended in similar weapons. He had four eyes now, instead of two, each was solid red except for four little black pupils. Then, jagged, deadly teeth stuck out of his jaw. Anyplace there could be muscle, there was; a whopping five-hundred pounds of it. Even compared to other high-level demons, Andreas was a<span style="font-style: italic">monster</span>.<br/><br/>“I didn’t exactly have a satisfying lunch today,” the demon growled, his voice low and echoy. “You four look plenty tasty.”<br/><br/>Before there was time to react, he had one of the beta wolves clasped in one of his giant, clawed hands, and its head was making an unpleasant crunching sound between the demons teeth.