"Don't move, Aria," advised.
Though Luca's voice was low, consistent, there was clear stress in it. Faced with the great wolf in the clearing, his body was poised like a coiled spring, every muscle tightened for action.
The wolf's brilliant eyes fastened on me, and down my spine shivered a terrible sensation of familiarity. It grew l instead of attacking. It only gazed, as if it were waiting for something.
"Luca," I said, not able to look away. It is not assaulting.
His grey eyes never straying from the wolf, he said, "That doesn't mean it's friendly."
I inhaled slowly, shakily, wanting my legs to move but they wouldn't move. The wolf moved slightly, its big head slanted as if evaluating me. My crescent mark pulsed in response, and a weird feeling flowed over my wrist.
Luca caught sight. "What's it doing."
My voice shaking, I answered, "I don't know."
