My grip on the silver letter opener is so tight that my knuckles are white.
The door is maybe a ten-foot dash from where I am, but I don’t think I can make it.
Every story I’ve ever heard about Wolves crashes through my mind; stories about torn flesh, massacred villages, blood and gore and murder.
At some point since I was taken, I let myself forget the cold, hard truth.
This male can turn into a wolf.
Callum is breathing heavily, and his hands grip the bedsheets on either side of him.
“It’s okay.” His voice is as rough as gravel. “You’re safe.”
“Your eyes. . .”
“I know.”
My breathing is fast, and my hand trembles as I brandish the ridiculously small weapon in front of me. “Are you going to turn into a wolf?”
His jaw clenches. “No. I can’t. Only on a full moon.”
I glance at the
