Lyra
Killian stared at me, his dark brows furrowed in that way that made his face look both impossibly regal and impossibly stubborn. His arms were crossed against his broad chest, his body half-tense as though bracing himself against something he couldn’t quite name.
I knew that look well enough. It was the same look he wore when he thought I was trying to trick him, or when my words sounded too outlandish to believe. It was the same look he wore that morning after I was reborn and I rejected Damon's proposal. I had ran to Killian and when I told him that I wanted us together, he held himself like this and wore that look that said that he didn't believe me.
And tonight, I had just told him the wildest truth of all: that my wolf was not like anyone else’s. That Moonveil was more than a
