(HELENA)
When Blackwood said he was taking me to a hotel, I assumed he meant the two-star one at the end of the street. I wasn't expecting him to walk me down the road, hail a cab, and have said cab take us to a five-star hotel.
But I said nothing. With my backpack filled with two changes of clothes—everything I own in the world—gripped tight in one hand, I struggled to contain all the hope and anticipation fluttering in my belly because he's here.
And he isn't looking at me like he hates me.
After we've eaten cold Chinese food at the small dining table in a hotel, so nice, I can tell there's not even one roach to be found in it. He says he's running me a bath.
"Because I smell?" I ask, hovering in the bathroom doorway as he dips his hand into the foaming water.
Rising from his crouch, he dries his hand on a towel and stalks toward me.
Something about the look in his eyes makes my mouth dry, and my wolf wants to press herself against him and stay there.
