Devon

The man stares at me like I’ve just killed his dog. He scowls at me from behind a mop of semi-blond hair and light eyes that are obscured by shadows.

I can quickly tell that he isn’t a shifter, but he’s also not quite human either. Something about the way he stands, the way his eyes shimmer, just doesn’t scream I’M HUMAN.

He’s older, maybe twice my age or a bit more, but he’s tall and strong.

“So you’re the reason why my daughter has ...