Chapter 33
Laila Frustrated, I shoved my laptop aside. Every attempt to focus dissolved into thoughts of everything that had happened at Montgomery’s house. Conversations with James, his mother—their words played on a loop in my head. I tried, truly, to shift my attention, but it was impossible. Screw it. I can’t work now. I reached for the werewolf book lying on my coffee table. If I were honest, I was more than curious. The book felt like a magical box just waiting to be opened, and I was a child again, wide-eyed with wonder. Only this time, the magic was real. I curled up on the sofa and began reading it page by page, completely absorbed. At some point, hunger reminded me I hadn't eaten, so I grabbed a late lunch, still glued to the text. It was fascinating—every detail of their hidden world,
- Writer
