The Outcast's Rejection
One minute, he was my tormentor, the next, my shadow.
When we reached the outskirts of the forest, my stomach dropped. Bad luck must have been written all over me tonight because standing there, leaning against a rusted lamppost, was the last person I wanted to see—Jonan and his gang of pricks.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to crawl out of the woods.” Jonan grinned, his dark eyes locking onto mine with the same sick amusement I’d grown used to. “What were you doing out there, wolfless? Trying to summon your non-existent wolf?”
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