My thoughts turned to a mess as I tried to process his words.
“A werewolf?” I whispered, with a barely audible voice.
"Yes," Cain replied. His tone was low, and it was like he was calculating everywhere it's he said.
I watched his eyes flicker between regret and trying to tell himself that nothing was wrong.
"I've always been one," he added, answering my unspoken question. That's one of the things I hate about we being compatible.
He knew what I was thinking, and sometimes it may seems annoying.
But now it is very much useful.
I blinked trying to find the right words to say.
I wanted to ask what type of werewoldf he wasy, the type that would shift and change their forms completely.
Or he was the type that usually has claws, ears and tail of a werewolf.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
