He had beady little eyes, like a marmoset. He dropped onto the bed and slidupward, bracing the pillow behind him. He hadn't even tried to look back, maybe wolf necks didn't work that way, or maybe he was staring at other things. I touched his arm.
This was once very normal for me, ma petite, and Belle holds with the old ways. It made me shiver and want to pull way, but I could tolerate it. Belle held his beautiful face in her hands, but he was still standing. My voice came out with a low edge of growl, I am not your ma petite.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.