Though he couldn't see them clearly against her glimmering, sweat-drenched face, he knew she must have shed them earlier. Why would she cry? Did someone hurt her in his absence? He didn't want her but that didn't mean someone could hurt her.
Though he found the notion cheesy and absolutely absurd, her eyes were as blue as the ocean and also held a deep abyss of emptiness and anguish that made one want to uncover what emotional torture had carved such look into eyes so clear. She was emotionally troubled. He sensed it and he hated that he could feel it and wanted to protect her from it or any demons eating her from within.
Everyone has their demons; he has his, dark and deep, but hers felt too deep, and it made him frown.
'She's hurting,' his wolf said. 'It's in her eyes, and I smell it.'
