16. Hope

Papa and I spent nearly the entire night sitting together. I talked, he scribbled scant phrases and gestured. It was wonderful. For the first time since her death we toasted her memory, cherished the fact we had known her.

Stumbling back to our rooms bleary eyed and sleepy, I saw Cal striding back up his corridor with a tray of food and a pile of books, choosing to eat away from the others in the main hall.

I want to do something nice for him. The way he set everything up last night was the single kindest gesture I have ever experienced. The second full moon will be upon us tonight, so I get some sleep, certain that I will need my energy for later.

I don’t want to drink the foul smelling tea. I don’t want to dull down my wolf’s desires. If it’s crying out for Cal, then why should that be a bad thing? I’m not looking at the other men down here and feeling crazed lust. Only Cal.

Except when I wake up from my nap, I don’t hear the annoying clang of chimes or gongs. Instead I hear whisp