“Elena.” King Harvey helps me sit up and rests my head on his shoulder. “I am sorry to frighten you.”
“You are formidable.” I say feeling weak.
I can’t imagine the extent of his power, or mine, for that fact.
-
“Elena, you have been quiet.” King Harvey tosses over his shoulder as he stirs the pot in our kitchen. He is making us a healing soup because we both need rest.
“Your power made it impossible to breathe, King Harvey. I felt the skin would fly off my bones. How do you contain it?”
“I would die if I constantly was in my werewolf form, exhaustion, Elena.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Elena.” King Harvey replies patiently. “I am a living creature, despite my powers.”
The icicles hanging off his words stun me. Did I misstep?
“I never thought of exhaustion killing a werewolf, King Harvey. A
