First he kidnapped me. Then he fed me soup. Which is honestly rude, because I was planning to kill him.
But now the fox who chained me up is also the one keeping me warm, sneaking me bread, and looking at me like I’m prophecy wrapped in bite marks. He says he’s not like his brother.
That I’m not a prisoner—I’m the plan. And every time he touches me, I forget I’m supposed to escape. But I don’t care how tortured and tattooed he is. I’m a wolf. And wolves don’t fall for foxes.
…Right? He foxed around. Now I can’t wait to find out.
