The air carried a subtle scent of pomegranates I suspected was from the new shampoos Khalid bought me two days ago after I got myself a new hairdo. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages as I flipped through yet another book on self-control.

I wasn’t sure how much good they were doing.

Somehow the last conversation I had with Ethan two weeks ago still made a point to play in my mind in unshakable echoes. His explanation about the original werewolf bloodlines, his tales ...