Chapter 17: Nikolas

"Is this yours?" The deep voice sounded again, awakening her from the sudden shock.

Irene's pupils constricted, looking at the man wearing a slightly torn shirt, revealing his toned arm muscle. Instead of giving him a ragged look, it amplified the sense of attractive wildness.

"What?" Her hoarse voice sounded, and a frown marred her forehead. This man's face was akin to a Greek sculpture; perfect and fascinating with sharp and prominent features. However, it wasn't enough to make her lose her mind.

She vigilantly glanced around, making sure that it wasn't the second assassination. Then, her gaze fell on the thing on his hand, the sight that had sent her into a shock.

It was a piece of bloody red meat, and the quantity wasn't small. If she wasn't wrong, it must have been the flesh of the white-furred werewolf earlier.

The man motioned to her hand, then to her face. "If it's yours, I will leave it here."

He put down the bloody meat and then turned around, walking away.

Irene's