The Return of the Lost Wolf

Mercy?

I didn't see Wyatt for two weeks, and by then I had fully recovered. He returned to find me reading a small book I'd found on a nearby shelf. 

"Before you freak out on me, she's here to talk it out." He held up his hands in surrender, and then Willa appeared behind him. 

Her eyes held an unrivaled rage, but she was doing a spectacular job at keeping it in check. That didn't stop me from backing as far from her as I could, but making sure my moonstone was in reach. I kept my full attention on her, not too keen to be stabbed with silver again. 

"Wyatt convinced me to let you talk. So talk. Before I lose my patience." She snapped. I nervously explained my story, watching as the just side of her began to understand. 

"Fine. I will give you one chance. You can live with the pack, but the second you screw up, expect no mercy. Wyatt, anything she does goes on you, too. We'll revisit this conversation in a year." Willa huffed, stalking out of the house.