by Fiona Page
“I’m everything you could ask for,” she declares.
The wolf-man looks down at her.
Cruel eyes, bitter lips, venomous heart. Prideful.
“I taste delicious!” she says.
He freezes. “Pardon?”
“I’m the best thing you’ll ever eat.”
He smiles sharply, amused. “You think so?”
“Yes,” she breathes, brimming with hubris.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He picks up her arm, digs his teeth into skin and muscle. Takes a chunk out of her. Chews.
Turns his head to the side and spits.
“Eh,” he says. “I’ve had better.”
The red flush that invades her pain-ridden expression makes it all worth it.
Leonardo Magazine 