Word Count → 396
It was good to see the blonde woman in a fine mood. She was a creature of hidden darkness, a she-beast with a demon inside her, but Amy was still luperci and it was moments like this that brought that fact to light. It didn’t take much to remember the snarls and shouts of the desperate shaman in the tribe, though right now, all the man could do was stare at her and realize she was pretty and the faint enthusiasm in her voice made his tail wag. If she hadn’t been busy, or if he hadn’t been so set on doing it himself, he might have asked her to escort him around the region to visit the different lands. This part of the journey was for himself and Wilson, however, and the lovely brown eyes of a beguiling woman did not change that.
A bottle was offered to him, and his throat bobbed as he shook his head. A feline stare burned his chin, and he remembered more than he wanted to about the last time he’d succumbed to a drink. Instead, his dark ears turned toward her as she began to speak, twitching in disbelief when she mentioned the pack. It would explain her scent, though there were other mysteries in her aroma that he figured he shouldn’t pry in. Her wording was vague for a reason, whether out of pride or deeper importance, and he wouldn’t cross her. The agony from her fangs in his shoulder the night they were interlocked proved that; she hadn’t even wanted to hurt him then, and he had a feeling the weapons she had on her were not just for show. She was dangerous in every way.
“You’ll find a way to get something out of them too,” Levent offered with a one-shouldered shrug. He doubted that she would be the picture of a perfect pack member; she liked her own rule too much for that. “And a festival…sounds like I just missed it, from the talk around Freetown.” He smirked and winked at her. “Didn’t cause too much trouble, did you?” His hand reached for the bottle, cream fingers touching its neck for a moment before he realized what he was doing and let his hand drop on his leg again. Awkwardly, he took another bite of the roast and ignored Wilson’s weight in his lap.
Levent by Sie; table code from the Mentors!
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