ALEXANDER
Fuck, f**k, f**k.
I was worried. This was really bad. I’d never seen a full-grown werewolf get sick before. Adult werewolves didn’t get sick. At least not until they got past a certain age. I’d, of course, known of elderly werewolves who got sick, growing weak from the aging process. But not twenty-year-old ones!
My legs were restless and my stomach churned, my heart incessantly beat in my chest, as if my inner wolf was clawing at me, needing to get to my mate. When I’d hit traffic during the ride, I’d grow impatient, throwing my palm against my car horn. I needed to be with Talia.
As I drove, I also worried about my mom. She’d aged ten years since my father died and was a shell of who she’d been previously. Even when things were bad in her relationship with my father, she st
