Keith
Leon shifts into the lamplight—a silhouette I know better than the moon. His dark hair falls over one eye. He wears a simple cloak, but carries the same warmth in his eyes that lingered there when he was in the warriors' barracks.
There is something different about him, though, that look, the years that hidden behind his eyes have somehow come forward. Or maybe I'm just seeing him clearly for the first time.
He halts a pace behind me.
“Hey,” he says.
My wolf is alert. Ready to spring at the slightest indication of trouble.
“Don't hey me. Explain yourself, Leon, or whoever you are.”
He ignores my questio,n looking over his shoulder before he says. “You're wandering the riverbank at midnight, alone. That's not safe.”
“It’s a big city, ”I reply, voice stiff.
“And yet I find you
