The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin
The scent of ozone, clean linens, and leather replaced the smell of diesel and forest decay, but the air inside the room still felt tight, stretched paper-thin by the tension between us.
Vanessa stumbled slightly as she cleared the threshold.
I reached out instinctively, my hand hovering near her waist to catch her weight, but she caught herself on the edge of the dark wood vanity near the foyer. Her fingers dug into the lacquered wood, knuckles turning white. She was back on her feet, out of the rain, and no longer burning up with fever, but she was still running on fumes. The dark bruised shadows under her eyes looked painted on, and every step she took cost her a visible slice of her prid