Chapter 15: Fangs
A sudden sharp pain shot through his gums, and when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, his breath caught.
Fangs.
His fangs had extended, his wolf form pushing through the surface. His control—his perfect control—was slipping. This had never happened before. Not once. He had mastered himself from the time he was a child. He was not some feral beast, not like the others who struggled to contain their instincts.
But now, his wolf was clawing to the surface.
His tongue flicked out, running over the sharp points. The fangs seem to poke perfectly at the place Riven bit him earlier.
Riven had no idea that he was in danger.
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Ronan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his boots pressing into the dirt path as he walked. He had told himself that he needed some fresh air, a moment to think rationally, to clear his mind. Instead, his thoughts kept spiralling back to one thing.
Or rather, one person.
Riven.
The very name made something tighten in his chest.