Werewolf Academy
“Oooh. Interesting.”
I lift the lid of the box, revealing a delicate oval locket nestled inside. The cover is traced with intricate golden filigree, curling in patterns so fine they almost shimmer in the light. I unclip the tiny clasp, and the locket creaks open. A small, tightly packed ball of crushed herbs tumbles out and rolls onto my palm. I bring it closer, sniffing cautiously—then recoil, grimacing at the strong, bitter scent. “That smells awful.”