Randall had walked me back upstairs and left for his office. He brought lunch for me, himself. I’m still finding it hard to believe that, even with running a pack this large, he’s had time to bring meals to me every day, muchless pick a flower for me, but he seems so sincere, I know it has to be the truth.
As the day goes on, I grow more nervous about leaving the packhouse with him this evening for the full moon. In an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of backing out, I pick up the book next to the nightstand that has been replaced daily- probably by him, too.
I’ve lost all track of time and am startled when he walks in. He looks at me, sitting curled up on the couch, reading the book and smiles.
“Ahh, I finally found one you like?” he asks, walking over and pulling the k
