Oriana's POV
Robin didn't say a word to me on the entire way back to the Lakehouse. When we crossed over the bridge, I realized that it was the Lincoln Tunnel. The thing that Claude had told me to avoid because of lycanthropes, but I never listened.
If I had just paid attention to it, I would have figured out the whole werewolf thing earlier. I could tell that nakedness didn't bother him, but it bothered me.
His tattoos were inked across his chest, intricate designs that I still couldn't make out yet. Robin was a mountain of a man. Towering. Resilient. Strong, yet somehow soft. Benevolent
Benevolent. That seemed like an appropriate word to describe him.
I drew my eyes away from him, feeling as if I was crossing a line and I wanted to give him some privacy. It felt different to see
