“The Primal’s head snapped forward. There was a brief flash of fangs, and my stomach hollowed. He tore into Pike’s throat, ending the man’s short, abrupt scream of terror. Wrenching his head back, the Primal forced the man’s jaw open as he spat a mouthful of Pike’s own blood into his mouth. My stomach churned with nausea as I planted a hand on the tile. The Primal shoved Pike aside. The mortal fell to the floor, twitching and grasping at the jagged tear in his throat. I couldn’t look away. Not even when he stopped moving and his blood-coated hands slipped away from his neck.”