Feral Desires
“Fucking hell—fine. Silver. Anything silver or wolfsbane. I swear to heav—”
I ended the call, shoving the phone in my pocket. My breath came in sharp bursts. My pulse was everywhere—my throat, my wrists, pounding against my skull.
Silver.
Of course.
I remembered the way it burned into his skin. The way his voice went tight with pain when he told me about it. The way he hid it—like it wasn’t a big deal, like I hadn’t fucking hurt him, but I had seen it. Felt it.
Now I didn’t know if he was bleeding somewhere, if they’d used silver, if he was—
Bab Populer