Luka
The girl was gone before I’d decided whether to follow her, and I stood in the dressing room with my hand still half-raised, like a man who’d reached for something and come back with nothing.
I looked at the hand. Made it into a fist. Put it down.
She was just a small, frail she-wolf. I wasn’t even sure she was old enough to enter the Purple Unicorn, or if she was one of the many who tried to slip in with fake IDs. I was surprised that the bouncer at the door had let her slip in.
She was pretty, but there were a lot of pretty young women at the Purple Unicorn. Her scent had been masked under human perfume and the powder of this room, but she carried the low signature of a weak wolf who hadn’t shifted in a while. Young. Highborn, by the expensive dress she wore. Nobody who had any
