Layla knew she looked insane as she paced the lobby. Her thoughts were becoming less coherent the longer she stayed up.
At any other time, she would have thought she was having a mental breakdown because all her crazy thoughts were mixed in with the weird voices that got her into trouble when she was younger. But she knew this wasn’t anything related to the red wolf or her usual delusions. She wasn’t herself just because she was tired.
Hell, she’d been walking around in a ‘packhouse’ surrounded by werewolves, and she hadn’t had the good sense to feel afraid. She felt like a zombie, and trying to understand anything around her was futile.
Trying to understand how she felt and why she felt it was also futile. It was like she was thinking someone else’s thoughts and feeling someone else’s
