Forty Four

"Dominic, where is the scar?" I ask and frown.

He was drying his hair with a spare towel and stopped to look around his body. "What scar?"

"Right here," I step forward to him and point his right shoulder above his chest. "There. You had a bullet wound when you got shot by that poacher."

Dominic was nine when it happened. He was mistaken for an animal when I made him wolf ears from one of my private arts and craft. We played hide and seek, and because he had the ears, a poacher had mistaken and shot him. When he realized that it was a boy, he went into shock. His parents panicked and had the pack doctor pull the bullet out from him. Luckily, Dominic was out of the woods, but he sincerely apologized and decided never to hunt again as for poacher.

"I don't have a scar. My body is wound-free," he chuckles, and I pinch my brows together. "Let me go change first. You go on ahead to my office, and I'll be there shortly."

When he returned, I didn't want to believe that the scar could just dis