Chapter 17While they were washing up the dishes from breakfast Amélie kept noticing Leah glancing down at her arm each time she handed over a dish to be dried, and after three plates she lost her patience. “Just ask.”
Caught staring, Leah glanced up—a flush raising to her face, “What?”
She held out her arm, turning it so the scars would be plain. “Please stop staring at me and just ask.”
“Sorry…it’s just…” Leah gestured to the well healed but deep scars that ran from the edge of her wrist and up her forearm to the elbow. “I didn’t think…that could happen?”
“Mmm.” Amélie considered how best to put it, “You are a turned were—the part of your skin where you were bitten is still scarred slightly, is it not?”
Leah’s hand dropped down to rest against a part of her hip that was hidden by her
