It’s our first morning in our new home, and as promised to Lavine, we’ll do something he’s never done before - buying food in the public market! He seems excited about it, little does he know what will await him. He pulls up his car in the parking space with enthusiasm, but that enthusiasm recedes from view the instant he gets out of his car. Unfortunately, I, too, don’t enjoy the pungent stinky odor that the market produces. My face twists and my stomach churns. If an ordinary person finds it difficult to like how a wet market smells, what more with a werewolf who has a much keener sense of smell.
“Why did you bring me here?” Lavine asks.
I shriek in laughter when my sight lays on his contorted face. His eyebrows are squeezed, his eyes are squinted and his lips are pressed tight. He ke
