"It's all because of you. I figured you might not have had time to switch into a gown, so feel free to change in the back," Oscar said, twisting around to talk to me over the back of his seat.
Today, his usually tousled hair was neatly slicked back, revealing his chiseled features more clearly than ever.
I took a moment to appreciate the view.
Maybe it was the age difference, or perhaps something inherent in the differences between humans and werewolves, but Oscar's face seemed softer, less aggressive than Herbert's.
Herbert could be in the deepest sleep and still exude an air of danger—as if he could snap awake and overpower me without breaking a sweat.
Oscar, though, had never given off that vibe, even when he hadn't been particularly friendly at first.
His eyes, a warm shade of ch
