Dorrien heard Avril call the old woman ‘Thalia’.
Thalia. Such a youthful name for a woman who already had several silver strands of hair amidst its gleaming onyx color.
“Ms. Thalia Turner, isn’t it?” Avril asked the old woman.
“Yes, Mr. Arke. And it is my pleasure to meet you,” she greeted while extending a hand to the Irish Alpha.
“And to you, Mister—”
“Dorrien Ronan. His name is Dorrien Ronan, a Shapeshifter Werewolf.” It was Avril who introduced him.
“Ah, a Shapeshifter. What a surprise!” Thalia exclaimed as she touched his lower lip.
Dorrien swore that he can now move his lower lip a bit.
He did move it, as well as his upper lip.
Delight danced at the hazel eyes of the old woman.
