[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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NIGHT WOULDN'T LEAVE. After a dark and dreary evening of rain that had dragged through to the wee hours of the morning, the sky struggled to shake the miserable grey hue that hid behind the black clouds that seeped into the forest. There was no sign of snow on the forecast for the next few days, despite the tradition for the town to be semi-buried for the entire three months of winter: November had been bad enough already, leaving a bitter legacy in its wake, and now the rain was working hard to turn the white cliffs into a depressing grey sludge.
Adele stretched out her legs with a crack of her knee, a dull, stubborn pain residing in her hip more than twenty-four hours after her fall. Her body was still sore but it wasn't so bad now after a half-decent night's sleep in Caleb's arms. He had made her feel warm and safe in a cold and dangerous world, holding her until she fell asleep. He hadn't let himself drift off until he was certain that she wouldn't wake before morning rose its weary head.
Before she had woken, he had made coffee and Ainslie, out of bed at an uncharacteristically early hour, had made toast. Breakfast had been a demure affair, hardly a word spoken as they had shaken off the night and lined their stomachs in preparation for another heavy day. Adele hadn't been able to eat much. The combination of nervousness, dread and the feeling that she was missing something wasn't a good one, stewing in the pit of her belly like a disease that threatened to spread until she was incapacitated.
She had certainly felt it last night. Once she had let that first tear fall, she hadn't been able to stop. It was too much, the emotional trauma on top of her physical agony, and the tug that wrenched her gut to see the photos and read the words. It was impossible to put into words how much she missed her grandmother, how sick she felt if she began to think about what had happened to her. The devastation of that day sat heavy on her heart like an unwanted tattoo branded into her flesh, a scar on her history that she couldn't erase no matter how hard she tried.
Now the coffee was cold, a measly inch left in the pan. Adele turned over a new leaf the notebook she was reading, her stinging eyes blurring out of focus after too many hours of staring at the page. She had only picked up the slim book to skim through for answers, as much as it hurt to do so, but she had found herself engrossed in even the most mundane of Mairi's notes. She had documented everything, from the hunts the Guard had carried out and the scores they had killed, right down to Adele's school schedule and Jade's grades.
