Chapter Thirty
"I'm fine, I promise. Stop looking at me like that." The mark that Owen had left on her shoulder wasn't nearly as bad as they feared. In fact, it was already mostly healed, and since Stasia's body still felt delightfully stretched from their lovemaking, she had a feeling there was some sort of magical bullshit contributing to it.
Her werewolf boyfriend bit her. She knew she should be freaking out. That was a freaking out kind of thing. But for some reason she wasn't.
Maybe her quota for freak outs had been used up, or maybe it was something else. She wasn't going to examine it too closely. She was going to consider a lack of panic a good thing for now.
"I'm not looking at it," Owen insisted. He was packing up a few things to take back to her apartment. There wasn't much.
