Thoughts of that woman storm into my head. Beautiful white hair, brown eyes flashing orange with shifter instinct.
Well dressed, tall, strong force of a werewolf that had suddenly thrown herself into my path. Into my attempts to just… be, here.
In her city…
> Would she… know if I visited here? Would they report it to her? And payment… don't banks have lists of transactions? <
Vrika whines at my concern. Torn between its desire to protect the remnant of Helene that may be inside and the heady draw of the fated mate bond.
I sigh, knowing my own opinion is finally starting to affect the spirit. My lack of trust is making it trust less.
> Sorry. <