My eyes popped wide open, my fear immediately foreshadowed with wonder.
The old man shook his head, “You remind me of a little girl called Willow.”
“What’s up with her?” I asked, my insides dying of curiosity.
“I used to know her mother, Margret.”
“What about her?” I asked again, trying to get to the bottom of it all.
“She was one of us. A Lycan who ran away from home, then years later I heard she married the enemy,” the old man told. “Margret didn’t really care about our beef with their kind.”
My mom was a lycan?
My chest started pounding, a certain tone filled my head with suspense.
“So what happened after that?”
He smirked, “By the time I met your mother again was when she brought you around her holy place. After that, I didn’t see her until I heard she was dead.”
I curled my
