L E I L A N I
Apparently, Fenrir invited a doctor to see me. He didn't ask, he just informed me over dinner. A quiet, tense affair where Lyra tried to make small talk and I stared at my plate, pushing food around with a fork.
The doctor arrived the next morning. Her name was Dr. Aris Thorne, and she was nothing like I expected. She wasn't a werewolf; I could sense that immediately. She was human, with kind, tired eyes and a calm, professional demeanor that put me slightly at ease. She was accompanied by a hulking brute of a wolf, one of Fenrir's pack, who stood guard outside the bedroom door. A reminder of my status.
The examination was cold and impersonal. Dr. Thorne asked questions in a monotone, her eyes glued to her tablet. I answered in clipped, one word sentences, my arms crossed
