chapter 38

Ridge

I’ve counted every single imperfection marring the wood floor in this bedroom over the past three days.

I did it methodically. Picked a section of floor and scoured it, counting each knot, scratch, and burn before moving on to the next. There’s a fucking lot of imperfections too. Whoever built this cabin back in the early days of the North Pack, they found a whole copse of knotted, mottled trees to use. And to be honest, it does give the place more character. Kinda like how Sable’s scars tell her story too.

On the other hand, there are so many imperfections in the floor that I only make it through three sections before I lose count. My mind’s too overloaded to hang on to more information than necessary, especially with numbers involved. No big deal—I just start all over again. I have time to pass, and I need other things to occupy my mind.

It’s a lot fucking easier to count knots in the wood than to watch Sable go through her transformation.

She’s been barely conscious. Sometime