The moment seemed to stretch into eternity; mindless, thoughtless and filled with a burning passion he kissed her, his every movement packed with intensity. Stars glimmered overhead in the cold night sky, frowning down from a distance that spanned the heavens. He was a werewolf; she was a human. Their union was forbidden by all moral codes - he had killed so many of her kind. And yet he could not stop it from happening.
Eventually, he broke away. Something of himself had come back to him, and he looked away from her. In those few seconds he had seen something frozen and uncertain behind her eyes; she, too, was wondering whether this was right.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Oh God, I'm sorry. You ... you stick with Ricco. He's better for you than me."
Standing, Logan walked away from her, out of the circle of firelight. He had nowhere to go but he longed to run, to abandon this whole village and go back to his previous, careless life. One hand resting against a tree as if to support himself, he dropped his head and felt sickened by himself. He should have known that she would not want him, the werewolf; and even if she did want him, he could not hurt her like that. The rejection of her kind would be immense, and he couldn't stop killing.