My Toxic Trait Is Being Fat
Just as I started to relax, his voice cut through the silence.
“You’re from Mooncrest.”
My fork froze mid-air.
“…Yes.”
“Roland’s rejected mate.”
The words landed like a slap. My throat tightened painfully. Of course he knew. The whole damn werewolf world probably knew by now.
I managed a single nod, unable to speak. Then a hiccup escaped me. Another followed right after.
Oh Goddess, not now.
I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified.
Without a word, Ryker reached for the pitcher, poured a glass of water, and slid it across the table with surprising gentleness. “Easy.”