ora

hing, the sun climbing higher until the glare through the windshield turned harsh and white. By the

he noon sun stabbed at my sleepless eyes. I killed the engine and leaned my

like a fever dream.

I walked through the clinic's sliding doors. It was a world aw

by blood, but she was the only one I'd ever known. She'd taken me in when I was a lost kid, loved me

lips when she saw me. "

hin, cool hand in mine. The skin was like paper. "Ju

asked for some privacy. "I'm just going to give

hut, I reached into the worn canvas tote bag I always carried. I pulled out a

ath slow, reaching for the quiet place inside me. I began to chant, the an

body. It was the healing art my master, Iris, had taught me. A skill lost to time, unknown even to the

ession softened. Her

a strange, creeping heat prickling beneath my skin. My pulse stuttered, then raced, a sudden flush climbing up my throat. I pr

the window. I packed away my herbs, kiss

lway, a commotion erupted near

ve suits were trying to restrain a teenage boy who was thrashing like a wild

ace a mask of panic. I recognized him-Dr. Alan Foster, a well-known physician f

is that could strike young werewolves, especiall

atural strength. He slammed into a metal cart of medical supplies, sending instrument

atching in horror as the b

was the last

ll, embroidered sachet. I ignored the bodyguard wh

, get

ry to fight him. I didn't say a word. I simply held

moon-petal and ceda

s eyes flickered, replaced by a sliver of ter

steady, almost a hum. "Everything is

He slumped to the ground, his chest heaving with great, gulp

le

s the first to move. He rushed forward, his hand g

harsh whisper. "That scent... that calming techn

my expression cold and distant.

stunned crowd and leaving the chaos behind me. I could feel Dr. Foster's eyes bori