I take a seat across the big coffee table from him, on the other sofa. I would rather chew my own foot off to escape a snare than get close to him. “Well, I’ll have to take your word for it. I didn’t have any contact with other werewolves while I was there.”
His expression totally changes to one of utter mortification. He puts a hand to his chest. “Oh no, Bailey. I hope you don’t assume that I was accusing you of anything. I just wondered if you’d chosen to…try it out on your own.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” The thralls oversee the magic that lets us control whether we shift our forms on the night of the full moon. I have no idea how to accomplish the change without the ceremony. “It sounds like that would be stupid and dangerous.”
Still, his sad, apologetic eyes seem so sincere. “I would have thought it very brave.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I nod, and we sit in unbearable silence.
“I think we should clear the air, Bailey.” His tone is gentle, oddly intimate
