One year ago
Wolves tended to reek of earth.
Being around them was particularly appalling for my nostrils, and I couldn't help the flare of disgust and irritation as we watched them flutter about, batting pretty lashes at us like they'd forgotten what they really were.
Prey.
My gaze coasted over to Ceaser.
He looked immaculate in white, as always. Golden boy. Crowned darling. Blue eyes sparkling as he leaned into Astrid Laurent, nodding along as if he were listening, when in truth, he was staring openly at her chest.
Ceaser had always been easily distracted by a nice pair of tits. It was one of his few consistent traits.
The girl didn't want him. Anyone with a functioning brain could see that. She laughed when he laughed, tilted her head at the right moments, left eye twitching with irritation every time his hand conveniently landed on her thigh. She blushed, simultaneously brushing off his touch.
