[BOOK ONE] When hunter-gatherer Adele Shepherd comes across an injured werewolf in the woods, it's up to her to take him in and save his life: in a remote town dedicated to killing the creatures, she's the only one left who wants to help no matter t...
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SMOKE BILLOWED OUT of the chimney, melting into the mist as its heat met the blistering cold that pushed the valley deeper into winter. November was coming to a dreary end, the year's final month looming on the horizon like an ominous warning of darker days to come. The sun would rise later and set earlier, the dim days short and depressing when the trees kept the light out as thought it was an unwelcome guest. The birds had quietened, the leaves pinned down beneath heavy snowdrifts that grew each day.
The house wasn't silent, despite being shrouded in a deafening lack of noise. No wind; no rain. It was completely silent outside. Not even the twitch of an insect or the flight of a bird rustled the trees. The whole forest was hibernating but the cabin was more alive than ever. The radio buzzed in the kitchen, a new channel that Adele had chanced upon when she had dropped a sack of potatoes and jolted the loose buttons.
While Ainslie snoozed late into the morning, taking up residence in Adele's bed yet again once he had let her mother know she was staying the night, Adele busied herself in the kitchen. The coffee was ready, the bread carved up to be toasted, and she had laid out butter and honey on the solitary kitchen counter, and she was alone.
Caleb hadn't spoken much last night. After the revelation had sunk in, the devastation of realising that Adele's parents had murdered his own, that they had been so viciously attack that they'd had no hope of healing themselves, he had retreated into himself. He had sat silently while Ainslie had sifted through photos of her and Reed when they were younger; he had hardly been able to pay attention when she had reminisced about her childhood growing up the same age as Reed.
At nine o'clock last night, after forcing himself to eat the food Adele had cooked, he had taken himself off to bed. She hadn't seen him since. Fourteen hours had passed since he had asked for a bit of space and although she couldn't see him, she had heard his tears and felt his pain as though it was her own.
It was hard to sleep with that constant ache in her chest and Ainslie's knee in her side.
It had just gone noon when Adele gave in and rested her shoulder against Caleb's door, gently knocking.
