“Good. I’ll cash it in next full moon.”
By the time I was wiping the plate clean with the last bite of toast, I felt a little more human.
Sabrina leaned in gently. “Would you like a short tour? Just a few wings, so you don’t feel so lost if you wake up hungry again.”
“That would be nice,” I admitted. “Thank you.”
We stepped back into the hallway, the warm light of the kitchen following us a few steps before fading into the cold castle air.
She showed me the direction of the library—“One of the biggest collections of ancient werewolf law in the kingdom”—the conservatory, the war room doors (locked), and a handful of side corridors with quiet balconies or old paintings.
We stopped at the foot of a staircase and she pointed upward. “That leads to the North Wing. That’s the king’s privat
