Layleen
I brace myself for the inevitable—the familiar look of disappointment, the shift in demeanor, the unspoken but unmistakable judgment. I've seen it too many times before. The moment people realize I don't have a wolf, they decide I'm not worth their time.
But once again, Samantha surprises me.
"No wonder," she muses, casually pouring more wine into our glasses. "Sunny couldn't sense you. She found it weird. So you can't shift, huh? That's… an interesting turn of events."
Her tone is thoughtful, not mocking. Not pitying. Just curious.
I tighten my grip around the glass, my fingers pressing into the smooth surface. Here it comes. The moment she realizes I don't belong here. That I'm not like the others—strong, capable, worthy. This is a pack of warriors. There's no space for someone like me.
But Samantha doesn't pull away.
