The air carried a subtle scent of pomegranates I suspected was from the new shampoos Khalid bought me two days ago after I got myself a new hairdo. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages as I flipped through yet another book on self-control.
I wasn’t sure how much good they were doing.
Somehow the last conversation I had with Ethan two weeks ago still made a point to play in my mind in unshakable echoes. His explanation about the original werewolf bloodlines, his tales of meeting my apparent mother, Gaiyetre, the mark, and then the warning.
'...now that you’re aware of it, you might start waking up parts of yourself that have been dormant this whole time... your real abilities could start manifesting. Things beyond just speed or heightened senses...'
To my dismay,
