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Chapter 19: Existential Quandaries

I have never been great at simply deciding. Particularly significant ones. Particularly ones that can end the whole presence of either the werewolf or Shifter race.

"Isla, dear, you are fainting on us at whatever point you come here." A silvery, supernatural snicker goes towards my ears. Two gatekeepers rush to my side, and even though my eyes are shut, I can detect their weighty strides.

Elijah gets to me first, his virus hands contacting my arms delicately, and afterward brushing across my brow. At first, his touch is cold, then loaded up with an intensity that brands me like an iron. A shout reverberates through the room, and it pauses for a minute for me to understand that it is mine.

Each touch is by all accounts deteriorating. I don't recall it harming this awful previously.

My eyes fly open and the principal thing I see is Elijah's face, turned with stress. "What's going on, Isla?" he asks me delicately.

I don't say anything, coming to with one thin arm to contact my temple. It
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