Her shoulders trembled. Her voice dropped to something small and pitiful: "But me? I am just an orphan with no one. I have to watch my every step in the Ashenvale den, and outside I am bullied and threatened. Even if someone... even if someone hurt me, no one would care..."
"Do not say that!" Fenris's throat worked sharply. The anger in his voice dissolved into raw ache, his words fierce with an almost obsessive certainty: "As long as I draw breath, I would like to see any wolf try to touch you."
Selene froze for a heartbeat. Then her eyes grew redder, glistening in the firelight. She lifted her gaze to Fenris, and beneath the wounded look, something triumphant flickered—quickly hidden beneath lowered lashes. "But you are my sister's intended mate... From the moment I first caught your scent, I fell for you. I have been holding back all this time because I did not want to come between you and my sister. I did not want to make things difficult for you."
Her voice turned feather-light, probing, each word a needle aimed at the figure frozen on the stairs: "Would you... would you really reject your bond with my sister for me?"