CAINE
Grace looks awkward, her smile a little too forced and her eyebrows pulled together. Strange. I thought assuring her of our secret being safe would make her happier, but it seems to have done the opposite.
I give up. You'll never understand.
Ignoring Fenris's pointless commentary, I head for Reggie's unconscious form with a faint sneer. Nudging his body with my foot yields no reaction. His breathing is deep and even, his skin tinged pink with healthy blood flow, and his presence in the pack link is muted, but not gone.
He's sleeping.
No shit. Kicking his leg doesn't wake him up, either. While I don't have a bucket of water to throw on his face—and I would—I'm certain it wouldn't wake him up from his peaceful slumber.
Whatever little trick the witch weaved into her camper protection is working very well, indeed.
Reluctant admiration trickles its way into my brain. It's pathetic for a Lycan to be so easily rendered helpless, but it's only proven the potency of her power.
