“Sembri un agnello, ragazzo del coro. Dovresti temere il lupo,” I said, dropping my voice an octave as I looked up at him, shifting my weight so I was angled towards him. You look like a lamb, choir boy. You should fear the wolf. “I told you I don’t speak Faetalian,” he replied, clearing his throat as he reached out to take my arm. “She said she’s going to eat you alive,” Cain snarled as he snatched my other arm. “And if you don’t get that starry look out of your eyes then I might start thinking she’s right.”
