Elf To Tame A Werewolf
Of the rest of the pack, maybe, but not of him.
I reach out and hold the right side of his face, close to the eye I had damaged. I rub my thumb carefully over his lid, over his lashes, over his sharp-boned cheek. He's beautiful, even without it. But he'd look better, I'd feel better, if I did this.
It's easier to control it this time, much easier, because…well, it's Gylen. He gasps as the familiar blue streak floods his right cheek, it centers on his eye, slowly revolving in a thin ring that solidifies into a thick brown circle.
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