Natalia
Cardan’s wolf’s icy blue eyes narrow to slits, as he watches me, his ears standing up with intrigue.
So now I’ve got his attention?
“I’ll let you mark me,” I repeat, swallowing nervously, as I continue to grip the tree branch like my life depends on it.
Literally.
He doesn’t say anything, as he continues eyeing me with a practiced disinterest, like one would watch a fly on the wall with.
Then suddenly, he gets up, and stalks towards me, like a predator would a prey. His steps are measured and carefully calculated. He’s taking his sweet time. It’s not like I have anywhere to go to from up here anyways.
When he gets to the foot of the tree, he lays down, paws stretched out in front of him, waiting.
For me?
He closes his eyes, and for a moment, just as I think he might have
