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NINETY-ONE | THE MEETING
Once we were settled in the living room, surrounded by old, hand-stitched blankets and warm lamps, the interrogation began. Skye clutched at my hand as Aradia and Ezrand asked him questions, trying to decipher if he truly was a good werewolf, or if it was a ploy of the sort that I’d imagined when we’d first met.
For his part, Skye’s leg jiggled erratically against the sofa cushions, and he twisted a stray length of his hair around his index finger until the tip went purple. He struggled to meet their eyes, but he held his head up bravely whenever they spoke directly to him.
Aradia leant forward in her high-backed armchair, pressing her elbows into the arched wooden armrests and resting her chin on her folded hands. “What is the intention of the Wind Valley pack?”
Skye shifted uncomfortably beside me. “To protect the humans in Hawthorn from supernatural threats. Werewolves are drawn to
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