Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 57

Soren

I get myself comfortable and ready for the night. Bree, however, is buzzing with nervous energy.

“Bree, please just lay down,” I finally say, unable to bear the tense energy any longer. “Your anxiousness is making me anxious.”

She pauses, turning to look at me with wide, nervous eyes. “I can’t help it,” she says, wringing her hands.

“What are you so nervous about? I will sleep on the couch; that’s fine. Hell, I’ll sleep on the floor if needed.”

She grabs a book and places it on the nightstand. Then a glass of water setting it next to the bed. “Well?” I ask her, and she chews her lip. A cute blush paints her cheeks. I raise an eyebrow at her, wondering what has come over her.

“I’m a werewolf,” she says like that is all the answer I need to make sense of nervousness.

“So?” I ask her.

“You’re a Lycan!” My brows scrunch together, trying to understand what she is getting at.

“I’m well aware of species differences,” I tell her. I try to rack my brain to figure out why that is an issue, but it’s not a full moon, so it’s not like she will attack me. I nearly laugh at the thought. Is she afraid of hurting me? Or maybe werewolves

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Chapter 57

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when they are

one,

howl instead of snore?” I ask, trying to

looks at

my sleep, are you?” I laugh, and her face burns brighter, but so does her anger at that as she scoops up a

at me.

not a dog!”

tail, but only slightly larger than a typical wolf, but you all look the same.” She folds her arms across her chest, which shoves her boobs higher, and my eyes dart to them. I force my gaze away. “Maybe I

the floor!” she snaps at me. I

you worried about?” she rubs her temples,

she is making this more awkward

Do you need proof?” I ask, and if looks could kill, I’d be dust.

she–wolf, I… I might scent you,” she

sniff my butt?” I

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Chapter 57

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And I hope it hurts! It might teach you some manners.” she spits

get ready for bed as she snatches up her pajamas and heads in for a shower. I shake my head, turning my attention back to my

the sheets as Bree goes about her evening routine. She’s showered, dressed and puts some strange lotion on her face, almost as if she forgets she is a werewolf and doesn’t need to; she may not be immortal like me, but werewolves still age