“Are you alright?” She hovers a good five feet away, the bloodied knife still dangling from her hand. The werewolf launching Dean across the old barn hadn’t caused the incident, but the man being unable to get back up for a few minutes afterwards made Emma see red. She’d broken the creature’s jaw with minimal effort first, making it almost too easy to finish it off. In the aftermath, overkill would have been an understatement.
She knows now, any attempts to change her nature have been in vain. Almost a year of keeping her cool and holding it together, now gone to waste because she’d panicked. Emma rocks back on her heels, the weapon finally falling from her grasp and clattering to the floor. The girl stares back at her father with inhuman eyes, not realizing she still looks like she’s in attack mode. “I thought it killed you.”