Page 72 of The General's Captive

“Werewolves are fast, and they never give up the hunt. Which means the only way to outrun one is if one of you is dead.”

“Well, it’s funny you asked me what tricks I had up my sleeve when killing it,” I remarked with a grin.

“Why?” he queried.

“Because I stuffed my silver bracelet down its throat, that’s why.”

He laughed and muttered, “Yep, that would do it.”

Then he took out a pad of gauze and brought his thick fingers to my forehead, making it look tiny in his hands. I hissed the second he touched it, actually making him apologize.

“Sorry about this.”

I nodded, surprised when hands that big could be so gentle.

“You know, you’re not that scary like this.”

He grinned and teased, “I doubt you would say that if you saw me crushing a man’s skull in my bare hands.”

“Yeah, please don’t,” I replied, making him laugh.

“We are not all monsters, you know,” he said, making me sigh.

“Yeah, I am starting to see that” I agreed before countering, “Although, in my defense, I have been attacked a lot by your kind.”

“Not my kind. The dark ones have no control.”

I frowned before asking, “What do you mean?”

He started to look uncomfortable and said, “That’s a conversation for The General.”

I frowned before pointing out, “Well, that’s a cop out if ever I heard one.”

“Be that as it may, I have my orders,” he replied sternly, which contradicted how gentle he was being as he cleaned the blood away.

“And those are?”

“Protect the girl,” he replied without a second thought.

“So, you were sent to the base to spy on us?”

“On you, no one else,” he answered.

I shook my head when he went back to the kit and I was free to move.

“But why? What is so special about me?”

He looked down at my wrists and pointed out, “You never ask yourself about them?”

I followed his gaze and pulled my sleeves down further so my scars they were hidden.

“I haven’t had much reason to,” I lied, making him scoff as he called me out on my bullshit.

“I doubt that.”

“So, what were The General’s orders exactly?” I asked, changing the subject and deflecting it off my scars.

“Pretty much to make sure you don’t end up dead.”