The Black Wolf
I lay on my bed, twisting beneath the sheets, haunted by questions.
The servant girl’s words echoed in my mind. The way she’d looked at me, so defiant and sure, as if she wanted what had happened.
Could it be true? Could the women be drawn to him willingly? He was, admittedly, dangerously attractive, handsome, powerful, captivating in a way that made your heart stutter when he entered a room.
But What about Siora? She wouldn’t have gone willingly, not her.
And then there was me. Xareth had never tried to touch me. Never crossed a line. Not even once. Why?
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