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Chapter 16: A Charming Welcome
My first impulse is to run away, to hide from the hideous face I know so well. The child inside me feels pure fear, aching and absolute in its simplicity. But the woman I've become, the free were I am now, refuses to back down or to show Andre Dumont even a scrap of anxiety. My wolf howls in my heart, her need to shred his throat in our teeth, to drink of his blood, and to bathe in the gore as he dies adds to the shaking of my hands. I'm forced to clench them tight at my sides, though I can't stop my feet as I lunge forward, down the steps and to the carpeted central aisle, a snarl pulling the corner of my mouth- -he bends over me, a strap in one hand, his other reaching for the hem of my shirt- Bile boils at the back of my throat, a low and menacing growl escaping me. "Sharlotta." Ole
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