Nadia
I went to bed that night unsure if I’d managed to test the scent soothing sign at all, but hopeful that more practise with the obstacle course could at least improve my burgeoning werewolf senses. At least it wouldn’t be a total waste.
Unfortunately, that was the last good moment I had that night before I spent seven hours in the grip of an exhausting nightmare. The details mostly fled with the morning light – something about my faceless mother, a yawning chasm of rejection, a parade of all the hateful men I’d had to fight against throughout my young life – but left me feeling wrung-out and upset in their wake.
Miserable, I stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast, hunching over the coffeemaker like a stooping wraith. The sky was grey and the day ahead looked bleak.
Then my no
