with gentle care mismatched with the anger in his eyes, he turned my head slowly from side to side. “You’re hurt,” he said. “Well yeah,” I breathed. “It looks like you took care of that prick, though.” A nervous laugh escaped my throat as I noticed Fallon’s nails extend into deadly looking claws. He ran a careful hand over my body. Goosebumps spread down the trail his fingers left. A small smile graced his lips. “Every scratch,” he whispered, his tone gentle and comforting, “every bruise, I will pay back in fire and blood.”
