Fleur
Wyatt, the Beasts eyes met mine unwavering across the table. he didn’t move forward from his spot on the over stuffed cream sofa. He just sat there immobile amongst the cushions and stared. His pale hands folded serenely on his lap.
He wasn’t serene though. In fact, he was far from it. I couldn’t read his mind he was top skilled at keeping me out to do that, but I could se his turmoil. Like a rainbow of colour, those bright colours warred against each other.
“Let me get this straight Fleur.” Finally, he spoke but he still didn’t move. “You want me to bite you?” confusion dripped from his voice. Disbelief and confusion. And who could blame him? What I was asking was unheard of. The risks were high.
Very very high.
Everyone knew the venom of a Wyvern bite was toxic, for nine
