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Chapter 13

Layla's POV

At that time, I realized that I was on the verge of life and death.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I am not a werewolf!" I raised my voice.

The knife's blade cut my skin, leaving a long, deep cut.

Blood started permeating out of the wound.

"You're bleeding badly, Layla. If you don't heal yourself in a couple of minutes, you will bleed to death."

I freaked out.

"I can't heal myself. I don't have the ability to heal myself!" I screamed.

This time I was telling the truth, but I didn't think that he would believe me.

"I'm asking you one last time, who are you?" Vincent's voice was even colder than the knife.

My skin started to feel cold or clammy. Even though my legs were twitching, I couldn't feel them at all.

This was real.

There wasn't a simple hint of sympathy in his ruthless eyes.

He was genuinely going to watch me bleeding to death if I didn't tell him the truth.

I don't want to die. I thought to myself. My life is pathetic. I'm well aware of that.
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