Chapter 8

Eleanor swallowed, her eyes wide. She took a fearful step back, but Conaan moved away, a small dangerous smile playing on his lips. He put his hand in front of his hair and pushed it all back, showing his face.

Eleanor slowly took him in. Dark green eyes, small pale pink lips and the scar. It didn't destroy his features, it just made him look like the man you would want to avoid.

"I know you remember that night. I saw it in your eyes when you hurled that cup at me. It is because you know I wouldn't charge at you. The wolves may be foolish but you know we are not. We can smell you out."

She swallowed, her mind reeling. She'd known. She did not forget, that night had been...fresh on her mind. And even when she started to hear about the lycan's rapidly conquering werewolf packs every other day, she knew they would not come to her. The least she had expected however, was that she would end up here. The place she dreaded the most.

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