CAINE
The girl's wrist is so thin and fragile, I'm reasonably certain it would break under the pressure of lifting a gallon of milk.
She's not that weak.
The bruises on her skin say otherwise, perfectly spaced. Four fingers and a thumb.
Hmm. How many fingers does a Luna need? She can probably get by with none. In fact, the Blue Mountain Pack has gone years without a Luna; I'm sure they would be just fine without one now…
Oh? Fenris perks up, his mental presence a little stronger. Are we killing her, then?
It's a tempting thought.
I take a deep breath of blueberry muffin-scented air, recalling the unknown scent all over her when we first met. My upper lip curls back in a snarl. Better to keep that vicious little Luna alive; she'll keep her mate in line.