“Are you ready?” Kirill asked, peeking into the room.
I slowly turned toward him. It was obvious—he liked the way I looked. I forced myself to smile.
“Yes.”
The werewolf stepped inside, bringing with him a trail of pleasant scents. A perfectly tailored designer suit fit his figure flawlessly; his hair was neatly styled, his beard carefully trimmed… It seemed Kirill had spent no less time preparing than I had.
He noticed my low spirits and asked seriously:
“Did something happen?”
“No, why would you think that?” I replied, trying to look at least a little cheerful.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Let’s go.”
I stepped closer and took his hand, but he didn’t move.
“I can see that something’s wrong.”
“Kirill, everything really is fine,” I insisted. “I’m just a bit nervous. There will b
