𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋
Layla's eyes fluttered open at my command, ecstasy brightening the color of her amber irises. Without a word, she turned around, lying flat on her stomach… and then I saw it.
"Oh, my God, Layla." I reached out and softly touched the skin between her shoulder blades. Earlier in the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of the tattoo, but only now did I see what it was.
My fingertips traced the black inked lines. The face of a wolf. A replica of the image tattooed on the top of my hand. I placed my palm flat on her back, identical art engraved on my skin. No words could have described the feeling that flooded my chest — the warmth that spread through my veins.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, still staring at it in awe.