“They were not green the last time I saw you,” he murmured. “I am sure of that.” A beat. Then—“Wait… are you a werewo—”
He cut himself off mid-word, as if catching a dangerous truth on his tongue.
I stepped forward, eyes blazing.
“Am I what?” I demanded. “Hey, if you’re here for Cassandra, you’ll have to go through me first.”
Something dark flickered behind his gaze after he heard what I said.
But then… his expression shifted. The sharpness dulled into something else.
Not fear.
Resentment.
“Cassandra…?” he said, almost spitting her name, then a bitter chuckle. “So she already saw you. Of course she did.”
He looked away, jaw tightening. His voice dropped into something bitter, wounded.
“Now I understand. You must be the one she is talking about. Her mystery. Her unfinished piece.
