Then I looked up at his face.
Jaxon’s jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He didn’t need to say anything, I could feel the disgust radiating off him.
He despised me.
I had heard stories about werewolves who hated humans, who saw them as weak, useless creatures. But this… this wasn’t just hatred.
It was barely controlled rage.
And I had a feeling that if given the chance, Jaxon would rip me apart without hesitation.
I swallowed hard, keeping my mouth shut.
I wasn’t stupid.
The safest thing to do right now was to stay silent and let him take me wherever he wanted.
Jaxon didn’t waste any time.
He led me out of the pack house, his grip still firm, his strides long and purposeful. The cold night air hit me as we stepped outside, but it did little to cool the burning sensa
