The air was warm that afternoon, the kind that carried lazy sunlight through the trees and made everything look softer than it was. I sat under one of the huge oaks at the back of the mansion, only because his weird test with the twig required I put my butt on a surface, picking at a blade of grass while Kester stood beside me, hands clasped behind his back.
Half my food was on the floor; another reason my butt on a surface was necessary. I just couldn't keep all of that in me anymore, not after what I'd just heard. Kester now looked like he was thinking too much — like he always did before saying something that could change everything.
Finally, he sighed. “Peyton… there’s something you need to know about what happened under the feral moon.” I decided that the last few minutes meant noth
