Tasting the Forbidden
The determined glint in his eyes told us he wasn’t joking, and yet I found myself protesting, “Mr Blackwood, that’s just not possible.”
“What’s not possible?” He raised an eyebrow at me, his demeanor calm and relaxed, even though I was getting undeniably worked up.
“I am not fit for the festival,” I shook my head negatively, even as I fought back tears, “I believe I told you already. I don’t have a wolf.”
“I am aware,” he nodded.
I inhaled deeply, ready to keep the arguments coming as to why this wasn’t a good idea – at least when it came to me – when he spoke up again.