Emory

“Well, what do we have here?”

The snarl from the squatty guard filling the majority of my doorway is enough to set my teeth on edge as my shifter body longs to call forth my wolf to defend myself.

Unfortunately, I’m not quite old enough for that yet and will have to rely upon my other fighting skills to protect myself.

As my eyes meet his, I can’t help but pull myself to standing, my hands fisted at my sides. He is short, a bit overweight, it appears, with dark hair, a beard, and those light eyes that look like they’re almost sightless. He can see me, though. I...