Jail didn’t smell as bad as I thought it would.

Dax’s wolf and I were led into a small, square holding cell, with three walled-in sides and one side that was made of bars, so we could see out. While the wolf kept growling at people, he didn’t make any move to attack anyone.

That seemed like a good sign to me, too. Maybe he was chilling out.

I sat down on the concrete bench, my back meeting the stone wall. Dax’s wolf sat on the floor beside my feet, lifting his head up to rest on my ...