“See? Even Luna knows I’m being realistic.”
I scratch her head.
“Besides, dying free is better than living as a slave. At least this way, I got to choose.”
The muscle in Kael’s jaw twitches, and I realize my cavalier attitude toward my own mortality is genuinely bothering him. The thought that this near-stranger cares about my survival more than my own pack ever did sends a warm flutter through me.
“Stop talking about dying,” he says gruffly.
“Why? It’s a fact of life.”
“Because I don’t like it.”
The simple honesty in his voice catches me off guard.
“Oh.”
We walk in silence after that, but I catch him glancing at my leg more frequently, his expression growing darker each time he notices my increasing limp.
It’s been a few days since I started traveling with Kael, and while having
