The Freak Is The Mate Of The Lycan
Riel and Cecilia were sitting at a table near the dais, flanked by two stone-faced Enforcers.
Riel looked terrible. His face was pale, shiny with sweat, and he leaned heavily against the table as if sitting upright cost him everything. He wasn't eating. He was cutting his meat into tiny, precise squares, staring at the plate.
Beside him, Cecilia looked like a broken doll.
She wasn't wearing the dress Wendy had been sewing. She was wearing a simple grey tunic that looked two sizes too big for her. The bandage on her face was fresh, stark white against her skin.