Freya’s pov
I looked at him.
He is standing there, his eyes have changed colour, and he doesn’t look human.
He looks like a monster; he looks like the monster that killed my mother.
Then why?
Why don’t I feel disgusted by him the same way I feel by other werewolves?
Get a hold of yourself Freya.
I tried to snap myself out of this trance I was in by digging my nails into my hands.
“You invited us, remember?”
Andrew asked me, and I tried to say something, but I couldn’t.
His face had changed just a bit; he wasn’t completely in his wolf form.
I mean, he is even standing on his two feet.
The hand, the same hand that I was using to try to bring myself back to earth, moved up.
I found myself placing that hand on his face.
He leaned in to my touch and even closed his eyes.
