Friday
Aislen made it to the grassy slope before the bell and sat in the normal position that Heath customarily occupied. She saw the Triquetra walk out of a building in a gathering of other jocks and cheerleaders. Was it a werewolf trait to always move in a pack? She wondered, as she watched them approach.
They were beautiful, she admitted ruefully. They were simply more athletic, their hair shinier, their skin clearer, their teeth straighter and whiter. There was something to their bone structure, to their long-limbed height and grace of motion that stood out amongst the human students, and, quite simply, outshone them.
And three of them were hers, she added to herself. Or sort of. Under whatever complicated, convoluted twisted arrangement that existed between them, whatever madness
